


Modern Fairytail

by Patatarte



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Grinding, Hand Jobs, M/M, Modern AU, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, and new tags !, blowjob, both lost family members, jon is a lost boy, mutual trauma, now we have a new tag, tormund lives in a cabin in the middle of woods, we did it boys, we're going there, yeehaw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:20:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23041636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Patatarte/pseuds/Patatarte
Summary: Jon had a rough year, nothing went right, not his job, not his sentimental life and even less his family. He is truly tired and being fired from his job was the last straw somehow. He decided to take a break, from everything, packing his car with random things he probably wouldn't need. He texted the few friends he still had at his work and threw his phone on the passenger sit before leaving the city.Days of sleeping in motels and miles later, he finds himself surrounded by snow and mountains. The road is getting more and more messy and at some point he arrives at the end of it, cursing. Well, the road continues but there is a huge unmoving metallic fence preventing people from going further up.A little story where Jon is really unlucky, until he isn't.
Relationships: Tormund Giantsbane/Jon Snow
Comments: 63
Kudos: 88





	1. Jon the unlucky

**Author's Note:**

> English isn't my first language and I have no beta so if you spot any mistake, let me now !  
> (I also didn't write much the last couple years so I am rusty...)
> 
> I am new to that couple, but damn I love them way too much for my own good !  
> Let's talk about it !

Jon had a rough year, nothing went right, not his job, not his sentimental life and even less his family. He is truly tired and being fired from his job was the last straw somehow.

He decided to take a break, from everything, packing his car with random things he probably wouldn't need. He texted the few friends he still had at his work and threw his phone on the passenger sit before leaving the city.

He feels angry, not knowing what to do next. He can't just go back to his family, not after everything that happened, so he just drive wherever, without a true objective in head.

Days of sleeping in motels and miles later, he finds himself surrounded by snow and mountains. The road is getting more and more messy and at some point he arrives at the end of it, cursing. Well, the road continues but there is a huge unmoving metallic fence preventing people from going further up. 

If the state of the small shop next to it can explain it, then it's because the area was abandoned a while ago. The wood sign of the shop is blank as the weather took the paint off it. Why was the road kind of clear and open until here ? Jon wonders, since there is crates looking a bit more recent, maybe it's some illegal activity, or else. Whatever, Jon isn't going to investigate.

With a bit of difficulties, he turns his car around and decides to stop a minute to take in the view and some fresh air. He may have a long road back to civilization, he didn't really pay attention much. So he gets out of his car and realizes it's way colder than he thoughts, quickly going to the trunk to get something warmer. He picks the heavy black coat his father gifted him earlier this year and that makes his heart ache immediately.

He wraps himself in the fabric, sitting on the edge of the trunk to look at the view. It might be a breathtaking landscape but his mind is not fully there. His dad was a good person, what happened to him was unfair. Thinking about him also brings Jon to think about his siblings. He misses them, wonders what they are up to across the world. He has their numbers, sure, but he doesn't know what to say, not after what happened the day of the accident. 

Maybe he should go back home. Damnit, he feels guilty and powerless.

He sighs heavily, brushing a hand on his face, feeling too tired but not really having the choice but to go on. He's about to turn around and close the trunk when something catches his eye. Something fell from his trunk and is now quickly rolling towards the side of the road, to an edge where you see a forest covering the side of the mountain til the valley way down. 

Jon curses and goes after it, almost certain it's the keychain Sansa made him years ago. Thankfully it stops on a small pile of snow, close to the huge slope. "Too much emotions for one day," he thinks as he takes a step to grab the keychain. Well, he doesn't even have the time to grab it as the ground just gives up under him, too wet and mushy to hold his weight.

He barely has the time to scream as he falls, head first.

There is nothing to hold onto, the ground is like a slide and he grabs dirt as he goes fast down. He can't do much but try to protect his head as he waits for the fall to stop, barely slowed down by branches, his body being slammed multiple time as he keeps going down the side of the mountain. He'd be lucky if he doesn't end up breaking a bone.

And lucky, he isn't.

There he is, falling in a forest, dense but still not stopping him. Well, at some point he does stop, after being slowed down brutally by a specific tree, his side slammed painfully against it, taking his breath away. The poor man holds himself as he coughs, defeated.

He feels like he went in a wash machine, dizzy and nauseous, just awful. He stays there, trying to get back to his own body as things spin a bit and the sky gets darker, the clouds full of snow. The fright then catches him off guard, a cold sweat taking him before things become dark.

__

Time passes in a weird manner and snow started falling. Jon opens his eyes, confused as when and where, gathering the strength to stand, gritting his teeth in pain. If he didn't break anything, he surely will be heavily bruised.

The air got colder and a thin layer of snow already draped everything around him, still falling more heavily as time goes. It confuses him even more as to where he should go. As the dark clouds came over, it is almost too dark to do anything and that gets another wave of panic through Jon as he pats his pockets to get his phone.

He has nothing on him. He doesn't even know if he had his phone with him before the fall. Well. He hisses at the radiating pain but decides that going down would be easier. He thinks he saw some signs for camping nearby (one hour of drive away, something like that), with a bit of luck he might find someone down there.

_

After god knows how many time of walk, falling, wincing, distance and sheer COLD, Jon finally has hope. He sees light and feels like he found god itself.

As he gets closer, it doesn't look like a camping at all but it's a cabin, a decent sized one, with smoke going out the chimney. Jon could cry right now, almost does, walking to the door and almost smiling as he hears music coming out.

He knocks hard, wanting just one thing now : to lay down. There is a loud voice inside, cursing, probably surprised by the obviously unexpected visitor. It is quickly followed by a simple question "Who's there ?"

Jon smiles, closing his eyes, so relieved to be finally somehow safe that his body tries to go limp. "I'm Jon" is all he finds himself saying.

"Jon ? Who the fuck is that ?" The voice gets closer and the door opens a bit too violently.

Jon can't really see anything, the light is too bright, but he can tell that the guy is tall, like really tall and with freakish hair. For a second he wonders if he's going to die in here, in the middle of nowhere.

The man gasps and puts a hand on Jon's shoulder, inviting him inside. The door gets closed and Jon feels like he's in a dream. Not because it feels like a weird fairytale, but because his whole body hurts in many ways.

"Sit," the man orders, pushing him towards a couch covered in blankets, near the fire. "You feel alright ?"

There is a short moment in between sitting and looking at the man where Jon feels like fate is mocking him. He might be the unluckiest guy at the moment. A red haired guy, the same fiery color that his ex Ygritte had, great.

"Hey, little guy, you are with me ?" The man snaps his finger and Jon nods faintly. "Don't move, I'll get something." He moves, making noise from a corner Jon can't see from where he is seated. There is a nice smell, some meal calling his stomach, but this is not what the man comes back with. "Here, wear this".

"What is that ?" Jon said at the clothes presented to him.

"Your coat looks wrecked and it's wet, take it off and wear this instead." As Jon seems to struggle with it, the man helps, being genuinely more careful than Jon expected.

The fabric is soft, warming him up already. It smell like smoke but the whole house kind of does. The man sits in front of him, looking around his face, concerned. "What happened ?" Is soft and low, Jon doesn't think he deserves such attention.

"I stopped at a closed road and fell." Simple, a bit pathetic.

"Ah, the old shop ? I keep telling people to close the road way down… You crashed your car ?"

"No, just me." That unexpectedly makes the man laugh, hard, surprising Jon. At least someone finds the situation funny.

"Diner is almost ready, I get that you probably ate some dirt but-" he laughs a bit more but regains composure just as quickly. "I'll probably need to check your injuries first, thought, if you feel warmer."

"It's okay, I'm-" Jon tries to stand but get stopped by a hand before he can even get up an inch. "Do you have a phone ?"

"No, I don’t, and with that snow it's even incredible that we still have power, don't push your luck. You will rest tonight and I'll see if I can go make a call tomorrow."

"Thank you,"

"Who am I to say no to some company ?" A big smile, openly friendly. He might look a bit wild, but he also has a softness to him. "So, Jon, is that it ?" Jon nods with a small smile. "Well, I'm Tormund, or Tor for short."

Jon doesn't know why his brain allows him to say the next words, but it does. "That...suits you." That gets a weird look from the man, so Jon tries to justify himself "Like, northerner, norwegian myths, gods and all, the snow…" he almost cringes at his own words, feeling his cheeks become hotter, not from the effect of the fire.

Tormund laughs, loud again, smacking his own thigh. "Ah ! I think we need to check your pretty head for injuries too !"


	2. Jon the unlucky part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Checking injuries with Tormund and some tensions,   
> Jon doesn't love himself much,   
> poor boy

Tormund turned the volume of his music down to a whisper, making the cracking of the wood in the fire the loudest sound for a while as the tall man walked around the cabin to gather supplies.

Jon really just aches and feels so tired at the same time. He wants to curl in a ball and sleep for days. To prevent that, he looks around. Most of the furnitures are made of wood, even the coffee table with smaller pieces of carved wood on it, next to a knife and a picture he can't really see clearly. It could be his family.

That alone reminds him of his own, oblivious of his situation, but also his friends. In a corner of his mind, there is the hope that his friend Sam will not panic due to the lack of texts from him. Sam just likes to know where he is, just in case. Maybe Edd and Pyp will calm him for a day or two. Hopefully there will be a phone tomorrow.

A bright light suddenly comes from a lonely bulb on the ceiling and Tormund puts a little basket full of medical supplies next to Jon. That man really is too tall. Or Jon is just tiny.

"Okay, Jon, how are you feeling right now ?" Tormund asks, serious, his laughing self on the side. 

"I don't think it's too bad, I mean...nothing seems broken."

At that Tormund hums but also frowns as he looks to the side of Jon's face. "Can I touch for a second ? I think you bled a bit." 

Jon nods, feelings really tiny and a little intimidated as the man leans closer. If his old boss saw him, he'd laugh and spit curses at him. Why is he thinking about that right now ? Is it because that man is a redhead, like Ygritte ?

Once again, Tormund takes him back to reality, his touch barely there, only moving few strands of curls to look. "It's just a scratch, you are lucky."

"No, I'm really not," Jon's voice is bitter and he ignores the interrogating look from his host, turning his face away.

"Alright...Can you stand ?"

And he does, a bit too quickly. There's a dull pain in his joints and one foot seems especially messed up. He loses balance for a second and regains composure at the same moment Tormund catches him, a secure grip on his hips. Oh, Jon hates that he feels so weird about it, hates that he probably would lean onto him if given the oportunity, craving contact, reassurance. He is a complete mess and an idiot.

"Can you stand still ? Show me where it hurts so I can give a quick check, mh ?"

The fact that Tormund doesn't seem bothered at all makes it worse. Jon wants to blame his attitude on the fall but the truth is : he is really that awkward with people he finds good looking, men especially. Come on, the man is dashing and so far really nice, how can a broken man like Jon resist ?

He doesn't move, holding his weight on one leg, eyes looking up to the redhead who slowly smiles like he is getting a joke. The joke is probably Jon's whole being.

"Are you gonna take your clothes off or do I need to do it for you ?" 

The man knows what effect he does to Jon, must be, that or he is a weird flirt or just a weird guy. Jon shakes his mind, decided to act like a normal human and not like some stupid guy who feels like in a romance novel. He takes the jacket off, his arms hurting less than before. The shirt follows, a bit awkwardly, and when Jon's head pops from it, he feels the red on his cheeks. He sees the curious look Tormund gives to the wolf tattoo he has on his left shoulder but doesn't say a word about it.

The setting makes it weirdly intimate and taking his clothes off for a hot man is a dream he never fulfilled before. He hates his mind, hates that he has hopes about it.

"...Alright, well there is already some blue." Tormund clears his voice, not really giving up what he's thinking, being professional and all, unless someone. Well, he stares, but that's to check the injuries, for sure.

Even if not, who would blame him ? Jon looks like a luxury snack, those were the words of Ygritte. The face of a prince, fine muscles but not too much, a soft pale skin and in general just a dashing body. He takes care of himself, when he can.

Tormund turns around him, looking at his back, noting another bruise there. "I don't think there is anything too bad but I' going to touch, just in case, okay ?"

Jon waits for it but it doesn't happen. When Tormund asks again, Jon realizes he is waiting for his consent. He isn't much used to that by doctors, which is kind of the situation here. Doctors ask but they also do in the same movement. So he nods, feeling warm fingertips on his skin, unable to fight against a shiver. God, he has a light touch for someone who seems to carve wood, it is so new.

"Does it hurt ?" Tormund's voice is low, deep, Jon is going to die because of it, he hates it.

"Not really, the hard hit was my chest and stomach," he manages to say, hearing a low hum from the tall man, feeling his breath on his back. "And I think my legs are fine," he says in a hurry, really not wanting to take his pants off. "There is just a dull pain in my ankle, but nothing that won't heal with a bit of rest."

He had worst injuries, he can take it.

"Mhm, want some help for that ?" Tormund is back in front of him, pointing down and Jon feels the blood both leave and rush to his face. "Taking off your shoes." 

Jon searches for a joke or innuendos on Tormund's face but there isn't, he looks genuinely caring. Jon exhales, thanks the redhead as he sits back on the couch, still shirtless. Tormund sits on the edge of the heavy coffee table, facing Jon and taking the heel of the boot in hands. That's surreal, and it shouldn't be ! It should be a normal help for an injured person !

But Tormund has those blue eyes, so pretty, looking at Jon with a face he can't describe now. That is not how you take the shoes off the feet of someone you just met on your doorstep less than an hour ago.

Damn it. Jon hates that he wants to indulge.

"Does it hurt so far ?  
-No, that's fine.  
-Alright, I'm pulling off."

Those rough hands sure are often soft, and the shoes are taken off with only a slight pain from one ankle. It looks a bit swollen, rest will be the medicine for it.

"Alright, little birdie who fell from the tree," Tormund stands, breaking the tension that was getting too thick. "I hope you like eating rabbits, I hunted this one myself !"

He stands and goes to turn the music up again, enough to be comfortable and keep a conversation alive. As Tormund puts on the dishes, Jon wraps himself back in the jacket he was given.

"I don't think I ever ate one before," maybe once, at a big family diner years ago. Nothing he remembers smelled that good, thought.  
-Then you are lucky, I make the best rabbit in town !" he brings a steamy pot and has a proud smile on his face.  
-I don't think I saw a town..." Jon asks, playful now, not able to hide a smile.  
-And that, Jon, is why I am the best. No competition !" He laughs then, followed by Jon.

It's so easy to feel better with that guy, Jon feels. It's the first time in a while that someone got a laugh out of him. He likes to feel it again.

Their laugh stop when Tormund takes the wooden pieces and the picture off the table. It doesn't turn the mood sour, but Jon can read a passing emotion on Tormund's face that isn't positive. He quickly switches back to talk about the rabbit again, detailing his recipe while bringing the dishes.

They start eating in a warm silence, Tormund giving insisting looks to Jon to know if the rabbit is as good as expected. Fun fact : it isn't much, but still good enough to fill their bellies.

When Jon finishes, he feels his body screaming to rest but doesn't want to be rude so he forces his eyes to stay open as Tormund cleans up everything. He wishes he could see the kitchen area, and the red hair. He doesn't like being alone in his head by having nothing to look at but an empty table and chair in front of him.

He decides to ask. 

"You didn't ask me why I was on the road up there.  
-Well, everyone has a story, I didn't want to pry."

Simple answer. Jon wonders if talking about himself would do any good anyways. He curls a bit into himself, his nose dipping into the jacket the man gave him earlier. It smells like smoke but there is also a faint smell of wood and...Well, of man.

He actually does not manage to stay awake to be polite, his body shutting down softly with the background noise made by his host, feeling less lonely than the last couple of weeks.


	3. Jon the unlucky part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad dreams come with the night, but they will get through them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things get angsty, but everything will be alright, I promise.  
> Next chapter will be more on Tormund's side !

Jon sees himself standing in an empty field, snow falling lazily all around him. The clouds are dark and heavy with snowflakes but the ground is bright, almost shining on its own. He walks for a long time but the landscape never changes, just more of the same snowy field. He keeps walking, a bit faster now, wanting to find an end to all of this.

“Jon,” a voice calls behind him.

He doesn’t need to turn around to know who that is. “Ygritte,” he whispers in return. He can feel her gaze on his back, feel her broken heart.

“You bastard,” she doesn’t even sound angry, just sad.

He keeps walking, hears her screaming at him, cursing. She has all the rights to. He is a bastard, he broke her heart and trust. He can’t turn around because he doesn’t deserve to see her face again.

“STOP RUNNING AWAY !” her voice is loud inside Jon’s head.

He wakes up, defeated and breathing quickly. When the dull pain replaces his dreams, he reminds himself of where he is : in the middle of nowhere, on the couch of a man with red hair like his ex. He sighs, brushing his hands on his face, looking around.

Darkness is surrounding him except for the few embers refusing to die out. The only sound is a distant snore, somehow reassuring. He is thankful for that man's kindness, doesn't think he deserves as much. Well, there’s even more to that kindness, because Jon isn't sitting on the couch anymore, he's laying down with a pillow under his head and a blanket on him.

Small gestures like that are so welcomed. Jon realizes how much he craves them.

He misses the small attentions of friends, family and lovers. Living alone in the city wasn’t a smart choice he had made. He thought that not having Sam and Pyp as roommates anymore would be good but it wasn’t. Dating Ygritte and having her stay at his place a lot wasn’t a good choice either, because when she left, he felt trapped in his own home.

Having someone caring about you is simply the best feeling and he is lacking in that category. Maybe he should go back home to talk with his mother, try to make things right for his siblings' sake and his own. He needs to be stronger and stop running away.

He will do that as soon as he gets back to proper civilization. With that resolution, he forces himself to focus on Tormund’s breathing to get back to sleep, holding the blanket tightly in a search for comfort.

_

He wakes up again before dawn, his heart beating hard as he sits on the couch. He just heard a scream, loud but short. Not absolutely sure if it was in his sleep or not, he listens carefully at any sound, ignoring the pounding heartbeat in his chest and the pain that goes with it. Nothing more happens for a minute. The room is dark, the really last ember not giving enough light. Jon grabs one of his boots off the floor and holds it like a weapon, just in case.

Nothing more really happens for a while but then he hears a loud sigh and wood creaking as someone is moving. Obviously it’s Tormund, who else can that be ? Jon sees a faint light moving on the walls as Tormund appears, holding a small device. The man doesn't pay attention to him, stays on the kitchen's side. He tries not to make too much noise, pouring himself a drink and emptying it in one gulp.

The red haired man has his shoulders wrapped in a small blanket, navel exposed as well as dark underwear. Jon puts his shoe back on the ground, without a noise. He could just watches him like a creep but feels concern for the man, something must be wrong.

“Tormund ?” It's the first time he pronounces the name, it feels weird to do it now.

It makes the other jumps slightly, but his face is not amused. "Ah, sorry I woke you up" his voice is low, shaken.

"Are you alright ?"

"Yeah, just a bad dream. Didn't happen in a while," Tormund sights, walking to the couch, holding the small light tightly to his chest. 

The light isn't warm, more blue than yellow, draining colors away and making Tormund seems older than he must be, more tired and sad than Jon has seen him. He asks silently what is going on but the answer is just the man letting himself fall heavily on the chair in front of him.

"Usually," Tormund starts, staring at the dying ember, leaving a beat of silence before continuing, "I carve wood when I wake up at night."

"This is your home, do what you must do." Jon is sorry for bothering the man's habits, would gladly help if asked.

Tormund hums, still holding the light with one hand and adding more wood to the fire with his other. Jon looks at the light, it's a kid's lantern with a bunny painted on it. The picture of earlier, that lamp...Something tragic must have happened.

"Power is out," Tormund manages to say, his voice tight, clearly distraught. "I won't see."

"I'm...sorry." Jon doesn't know what to say or do. "Is there anything I can do…?" 

He feels stupid and useless again, expects the man to yell at him to ease his own pain but it doesn't happen. Tormund just looks at the ember getting a bit more lively, sniffling a couple of times. His eyes are watery, he's trying to keep it together and Jon looks away, giving him privacy.

Silence settles in for long minutes until small flames dance around the wood and light up their faces with warmth. Jon is so tired, eyelids heavy, but he keeps waiting in silent support.

Tormund clears his throat a while later, shuffling in his seat. "Okay, well...Get back to sleep, you need the rest-" he stands, about to leave the room, his back towards Jon. "I won't bother you again."

"It's alright. I understand." And he thinks he really does.

The redhead turns around, looking at Jon's face, reading his expression and giving a faint smile, getting one back before disappearing at a corner. 

Jon lays back down only when he hears what he supposes to be the bed creaking.

_

In the morning the weather doesn't really improve. It keeps snowing and the wind is slowly picking up. 

Jon finally wakes up when Tormund opens the blinds. The redhead laugh at the disheveled look of his guest. If Tormund is fully clothed and probably awake since a while, Jon just looks wrecked and the man's jacket is sliding a bit from his shoulders.

"Finally awake, I thought you were going to hibernate !" His voice is louder than the day before, way more joyful too. "Isn't your bladder going to explode ?"

Jon looks embarrassed. Yeah he needs to use the bathroom, badly. He sits and stretches, careful of his bruises still radiating pain when he breathes. His ankle is still a problem too, he will need support. As he looks for one, Tormund gets closer in a second, ready to hold him. "Put your arm around my neck, boy"

Jon laughs at it, that's not going to be easy, Tormund is way taller than him, but he does so. He stands and Tormund moves with him, almost bent in two to accommodate him. It is awkward but welcome ! Also that man is way stronger than Jon thought. 

They make their way to the small bathroom, fully furnished. Jon wonders how a cabin so far from a town can have so much things in it, like running water and electricity. He won't ask his host but stays curious about it. He really didn't see another house or cabin close to this one when he was wandering for shelter.

"Okay, now just hold on the wall, I don't think you want me to stay for that part, right ?"

Blue eyes are piercing through Jon, asking and Jon feels the heat on his cheeks again. Tormund breaks his gaze, pats his arm and leaves, laughing hard. He just seems to enjoy embarrassing Jon and it is an easy thing to do.

After his business is done, Jon hops on one leg to the sink, washing his hands and looking at his face. There is dry blood on the side of his head, his hair just awful and, well… he looks even tinier in Tormund's jacket. His overall look is not too great so he tries to freshen up by splashing water on his face and trying to tame his curls.

While he does it, his mind wanders a bit, imagining that he spent the night with his host in a less-than-innocent-way and wrapped himself in his jacket. Jon never actually tried anything with a man before but his imagination can be vivid and he is not going to lie about Tormund's attractiveness, those blue eyes pierced through him. He'd give a lot to be in his arms or to have him in his, safe.

"Are you done ?" Tormund asks, knocking on the thin door and surprising him. Jon says yes quickly, taming some stray curls as the door opens. 

Jon can see that Tormund wants to say something about what he's seeing but doesn't. Which is a bit of a disappointment. He still holds his arms up and grabs on the redhead's neck, walking back to the big room.

This time, Jon is led to a bar stool on the kitchen's side. There's a cold breakfast ready for him, a pen and paper next to it. Tormund walks around the table bar and points to the paper, serious as he can be. Jon sees for the first time in natural light how bright his eyelashes are, bright as the sun reflecting on snow.

"You have a natural puppy face, you know that ?" Is really not what Jon expected to hear, but he laughs at the weird fact ? Compliment ?

"Is that a good thing ?" He asks, unsure.

"Can be, if you know how to use it." The innuendo is not lost on Jon, not with the tone of voice or the gaze, but he doesn't really have the time to says anything back. "Anyways- I'm going to the town, you can't come with me with a foot so bad, but I can call someone for you."

Jon nods, understanding. He doesn't enjoy overstaying his welcome but he doesn't have much choice, he would be too much of a burden if he needs help outside. 

"Thank you. How far is it ?" He starts writing numbers, Edd is the most important one for now, and…  
-About two or three hours of walk away, with the snow and wind it might take a bit longer. I'll try to be quick.  
-If that's too much of a bother-  
-It's not a problem, I needed to go grab some supplies anyways."

Tormund walks a bit away, grabbing a big coat and shoes, getting ready. Jon hesitates to add his brother Robb's number, starting to write it before scratching it. They don't have to know or they'll worry too much, Robb's wife is expecting and Jon won't put his stupid problems on her.

"I think that's all…" Jon sighs, one number only, that's all he has. He is lucky to remember it too. "I will repay you, my wallet is in my car, I'm sorry-  
-Don't worry, pretty face, you owe me nothing,"

Tormund really looks like a nordic man with all his warm clothes, all handsome too. He is ready to leave, but before that he pockets the paper and gets almost too close to Jon's face. Personal space isn't much of his forte, Jon notes.

"You can move around the room all you want, the furnitures are solid and will hold your weight no problem. Make yourself at home. Oh and I managed to get the power back, put some music on." He starts walking away, holding the door's handle. "And if you need to use the bathroom, just use a chair as that thingy old people use to walk around."

And with that he leaves. The cabin becomes way too silent and empty after that.


	4. Lone Tormund 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tormund goes to town, makes plans and buys too many things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one ends weirdly because the next one will be angsty, I wanted to separate them. 
> 
> We are getting close to something good

Tormund makes his way through the snow and trees, having all the time in the world to think. 

He really didn't expect his week to start this way. It's not the first time people just appear at his door after falling from the road above or getting lost in the woods. Once, he had to go to the town in the middle of the night because someone was too injured to wait. This time it's a lovely guy, a bit shaken but okay. Tormund finds him sweet, can't bring himself to stop teasing him even if it brings him nowhere.

It's alright, Tormund missed talking with someone, deeply missed company. Someday he will change his way of life. He misses the big nights out with his friends, concerts or just driving around with… well, his family. 

Talking about his family, he didn't had a nightmare that bad about them in quite a while, it had to happen when he has a guest, of course ! At least Jon doesn't seem to think he is too mad or anything, that is good.

_

He arrives at the edge of the town before he expected to, going straight to the bar to get a warm drink and ask questions "Where's Mance ?" is the most important one. Nobody really is too surprised by him and his attitude, he is a known character. 

He goes on his way once his drink is done, finding Mance, the mayor of the place, where he belongs for once. What the guy does might not always be legal but he is appreciated by everyone and Tormund is a friend of his, so it makes things easier. Mance is in his office, busy talking important shit to whoever are the people around him. Tormund just walks past the secretary and enters the room, standing in the middle of their little circle.

"Mance, I need to talk to you quickly.  
-Tor ! I didn't expect you that soon, what do you need ?  
-A bird fell again."

Understanding the situation, the mayor dismisses everyone for a couple of minutes, being left alone with Tormund.

"Whether you like it or not, your place became a refuge.  
-If someone could have just blocked the road way down, it wouldn't be a thing, Mance.  
-I don't have power over that, the owner of the shop doesn't want it. Anyways. How's the bird ?  
-He's okay, bruised and a bad foot. I need you to get his car back here, he has his wallet and everything in it still."

Mance takes note of it and Tormund knows it will be done nicely as soon as possible, that is why he asks him directly and not a garage.

"I'll pay for it too," Tormund ads, his torn up wallet in hand, giving big bills to Mance who takes them with a questioning glance. "I don't know if he has money," is the only answer he can give as an explanation. "One more thing-" he takes the paper off his jacket with the number and small text on it. "Can I use your phone ?"

Mance frowns a bit at that. "You really need a phone line in that damn cabin," but still gives him the phone, leaving the room to talk about his project with the waiting people.

Tormund calls the number, gets to the guy named Edd almost immediately and explains what he knows of the situation. The guy seems suspicious but doesn't question much, just asks for more news when possible and the name of the town. Hopefully he will not just come here and make a mess. Once it's done, Tormund goes back to Mance and thanks him quickly. He still has things to do, like buying groceries. 

He doesn't like going to the small grocery store because of the way the cashier looks at him. She pities him and that is really annoying. He tried to tell her once, but guesses that can't be helped. So he avoids it whenever he can. Today, for time reasons, he has to. Usually, Tormund goes to every little shops, butcher, bakery… He just enjoys talking with the people here before going back to his isolated place but Jon probably wouldn't like staying alone too long, there is not much to do in the cabin.

What does a guy like that enjoy anyways ? Tormund wonders while looking through magazines and books. He takes comics and a thriller novel, hoping that would be enough for maybe another day of waiting. He also buys a prepaid phone, not even sure it'd work in his cabin. He buys a lot of frivolous things he wouldn't get for himself but thinks Jon might like.

It has been a while since he bought anything for someone else than himself.

He ignores the looks of the cashier, getting his backpack ready, pushing everything in it, messily. He is already impatient to see the fallen bird's reaction to all of this.

The walk back is in a joyful mood.

Tormund likes the guy, enjoys seeing him laugh at his bad jokes, enjoys seeing him, period. It has been a long time since someone so pretty stayed in his cabin. His wife, may she rest in peace, would be stocked to see him just enjoy his life and she would have loved Jon.

His two girls too.

_

When he sees his cabin, his stomach rumbles loudly. It is close to 2pm and he didn't have a lunch yet, so he goes faster for the short distance now separating him from the sweet heat of his home.

He enters a bit brutally and sees Jon jumps. The man is sitting on the couch, a bunch of tiny papers in front of him, most on the table and some now on the floor now that wind just flew them away.

"My bad, what were you doing there ?" Tormund starts, his backpack now at his feet while he takes his scarf and jacket off.  
-I was playing chess," Jon sounds a bit sad now that the game is destroyed.  
-By yourself ? With paper ? Looks a bit miserable"

Jon shrugs, already forgetting his game to stand and hop closer, tired of sitting and not moving. It almost looks like he wants a little kiss, a "welcome back" moment. Tormund just looks at him with wide eyes before turning his attention to his bag.

"I've got things for you, little bird." 

He smiles, getting a bag of candy out and giving it to Jon who just accepts it with a smile of his own. He must have been hungry because he rips the package open and eats one right away. Polite as he is, he silently asks if Tormund wants one but the redhead declines, his hands already on the next gift.

"So, I'm not sure if it will work here at all, with the weather, trees and shit, but I bought a phone, we can try it after." He shows it to Jon and waits for his reaction, his eyebrows high in expectation. 

Jon doesn't look as excited about the object as he expected, mostly just embarrassed, but that's fine. Tormund pushes the small box into his hands before digging some more like a weird santa. He takes out more groceries and there is books in his hands.

"Didn't know what you liked, so I kinda listened to my guts." He puts them on top of the phone, having Jon juggling a bit with everything, trying to look at the titles and smiling at the comics choice.  
-Your guts are fine, thank you"

There is two more things, the last items emptying the bag. One of them is a toothbrush and the other is a pajama's bottom, looking ridiculous and too colorful. "That will be more comfortable than your tight pants," Tormund ads, holding the pants printed with small cute colorful peas with smiles on their faces.

Jon has his cheeks pink again and Tormund doesn't miss the way he licks his lips while thinking about an answer as he looks at the hideous clothes. But then, their gaze crosses and there's a silent beat. Tormund knows he's not exactly subtle as he details Jon's face. But the curls, the beard, the shape of his lips, the way he almost always looks sad- so pretty he refuses to break eye contact and waits until Jon does.

It happens only for a second, thought, his eyelashes fluttering and his eyes focusing back on Tormund's sweet blue.

"How was the walk ?" Jon asks to fill the awkward silence as Tormund tosses his empty bag on the side without looking or really caring.  
-Cold ? That's just a walk but with snow and wind, not the greatest, not the worst"

The redhead doesn't know why he feels the need to come closer but he does, slowly taking the items off the smaller man's hands to throw them one by one on the couch, never breaking eye contact. He isn't that subtle, doesn't try to be. When there is nothing more in the man's grasp, Tormund takes another step forward. Jon almost falls but holds onto Tormund's arms,quickly regaining balance but his touch lingers.

Tormund could have just...slided a hand around Jon's ridiculously thin waist right there, but that would have been too much. He believes that Jon is more innocent than that, since the man doesn't initiate anything more, so Tormund decides to take a step back and change the subject instead.

"Ate anything ?" He asks then, and he knows the answer already because there is a pot on the stove and clean dishes next to the sink


	5. Lone Tormund 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Truth is spilling out, sadness, pain and anger. The necessary angst before dawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING, this chapter is mostly just angst and mention deaths, lots of them, sad and unfair !

Tormund is eating cold raviolis out of the pan, Jon's leftovers. He is deeply amused by his guest's actions. The phone's box is on the floor, the long notice in his hands and he is squinting at it like he needs glasses. Maybe he does, he might even look cute in them. Tormund could help but doesn't, only observing as Jon just gives himself unnecessary steps, it's a damn phone ! How difficult can it be to use ?

"Oh, by the way, I still called your friend- what was his name...Edd," says Tormund in between forks, "a suspicious fella, I wonder if he'll show up in town to make sure you haven't been murdered or something.  
-Mhh, thank you, I wasn't sure he'd answer, he's been quite busy since I left," Jon doesn't even look up from the paper, focused.

Tormund's smile grows bigger as Jon's frustration does the same. There is a silent battle with the phone, an arm holding it up to catch any signal. He looks miserable but more like a child not figuring out a toy than someone dealing with a hard situation. He even stands and tries again, hopping to the closest window to maybe force the luck.

It just doesn't work.

"It should stop snowing in the evening, might work better then," Tormund offers. Jon hops back to the couch, plopping on it, groaning about the pain it afflicted him, the phone somewhere with him. "Not really the vacations you hoped for…"

Jon's face is smashed against a cushion, his face humorless and his laugh sour, the same he had the day before while talking about his lack of luck. Tormund doesn't want to pry but Jon seems decided to talk.

"I'm not on vacation. I've been fired and now I just-" he waves his hand, meaning uncertainty, going random. He doesn't know what to do next, Tormund gets it.  
-No lovebird ?" He doesn't know why he's asking that now, but the look on Jon's face pains him.  
-Not anymore, I broke up before being fired actually.  
-No family ?" Tormund pushes his luck, just wants to learn about the man.  
-It's...complicated."

The redhead isn't going to learn more right now, not that he really learned much anyways. Still, he went against his rule of not prying on people because he doesn't like them doing it to him…For that, he has to make it even.

"I said I wasn't going to pry but I did, so feel free to ask me things too." He can almost see the question in Jon's eyes, but the man stays silent. "Okay, I'm just going with the elephant in the room. You are wondering about last night, am I right ?" Jon sits straight, nodding slowly. Tormund takes a deep breath, "Lost my wife, my two young daughters and a couple of friends in a fire. I still have nightmares about it."

The answer is not really unexpected but it was a bit blunt. Jon doesn't know where to look, what to do, looking clearly shocked by the news. He even gives his hand like he wants to put it on Tormund to show him sympathy, instead he puts it flat on the table, like he wants to be close, to reach him. The redhead just laugh, a bit of sadness dripping into it.

"That's fine. It was years ago, I'm still here and they'd want me to keep going, so…" he keeps his head up, a bit proud of his strength. He kept that promise well alive. 

After a bit of silence and stillness, Tormund puts the empty pan on the coffee table, grabbing a piece of wood and one of his carving knives. There's only so many options out of an awkward silence. He hums as he works on a piece, aware that Jon is watching him, still in shock and trying to say something but not making a sound.

After a while, Jon stands and awkwardly goes to the bathroom, looking deep in thoughts. When he appears again, he's wearing the ridiculous, but comfy, pajama bottom. Tormund looks at him from the corner of his eyes, seeing the small man in the kitchen, juggling with the bag of candies, two glasses and a bottle of water. He manages to bring all on the coffee table without falling, offering the food to the host and picking one for himself. He still looks like he wants to talk and eventually it happens.

"My father and-" he cuts himself, unsure if he should continue or not, his eyes locked on Tormund's carving. "My father and youngest brothers had a car accident."

Tormund stops what he was doing, their eyes meeting. Jon has tears in his eyes, he probably kept that in for a while.

"My father and Rickon, my youngest brother, died. Bran is in a wheelchair, he'll never walk again." He sniffles, looking down at his hands. "Everytime I see him, I-" he sobs for a moment, pushing his palms against his eyes in an effort to stop his reaction. "Sorry, I shouldn't tell you all that."

"Don't apologize, you need to get it out, little bird."

Jon lets himself cry and Tormund says fuck it, leaves his chair to sit next to him on the couch, one hand on his back, circling, reassuring. He knows how raw it can be, he went there. Either it happened not that long ago or Jon never talked to anyone about it.

"I wasn't there when it happened but when I got home, I knew it wasn't a simple accident. It was already terrible but that made things worse," He laughs, humorless. "My father had lots of power in our community but more so, he had honnor and-" he grits his teeth, angry in his pain. "They were murdered, we know it but we can't do shit against the people who did it. I was a cop, Tor, a cop ! And I couldn't do anything !"

That surprises Tormund, the whole murder and picturing Jon as a cop. The first one is… sadly not too surprising in some big scale because powerful people can be just awful and impossible to reach, happens too much to be unbelievable. The cop thing...well, Jon probably tried to be a good cop but seeing how that ended…

"That broke my family. My...mother-" at the sound of it, Jon isn't too fond of her, "-she told me I wouldn't be welcome home until I found a way to make the culprits pay. As if I had any power at my job ! And one of my sisters was working for these murderers, maybe she still does !"

Tormund decides to just ads a little thing, trying to ease Jon's anger. "That's a big family you have. A small town almost."

It works nicely as Jon exhales a laugh, his anger gone "Yeah, I agree. And you don't even know about the two other siblings." He plays with a wooden piece, turning it around his fingers. "I miss them."

"Well, as soon as you can walk, you should go see them. They must miss you too" Tormund's voice is soft, implying how easy it is to lose someone so you should never wait too long.

"I will." Jon looks up to Tormund, drying his tears with the jacket he's still wearing. "Thank you for listening."

Tormund opens his arms, inviting. He is just that kind of guy, feeling like touch can heal a wounded heart. Jon clearly hesitates but finally gives in, not knowing where to put his hands. The arms close around him, warm, strong, protective. Neither wants to let go, so they just find comfort in the hug for a long minute. 

"This by far the weirdest date I had," Tormund whispers, a smile in his voice. He feels Jon laugh against him, he could get used to it.

"Don't say that, who would date a failure like me ?" Jon mumbles, unmoving.  
-I would." Honesty, open heart. He feels that more than ever.

"Don't give me hope"

Jon has a tight grip on Tormund's clothes, he's nervous, tired, had too many emotions through him and not much fight left in him. There's still a circling motion happening on his back, tender. He could fall asleep just like that, like the weak coward he thinks he is.

"Little bird ?  
-Mmh ?  
\- A man like me has no reasons to lie."

Jon buries his head deeper into the crook of Tormund's neck, wanting to live the fantasy and feeling secure just a bit longer not knowing that Tormund decided to help the fallen bird to fly again.


	6. Jon the unlucky part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a sweet exchange with Tormund, Jon calls his friends and doubts start creeping back into his mind. 
> 
> Self deprecation and angst pour from it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to @Miss_Rust who is beta reading and making things so much better, bless !
> 
> Psa : not really a happy chapter, so if you want something uplifting, I advise you to wait for the next one, it will be way easier !

They stayed on the couch well after the sun went behind the trees and darkness surrounded the cabin, breaking the hug but keeping close, sharing warmth.

Jon talked about his siblings' antics and both laughed at them. Having so many brothers and sisters was obviously a recipe for disasters and the family really wasn't disappointing Tormund's curiosity. The redhead peppered facts about his daughters, so young but already fierce tricksters, smiling at the memories. Jon showed support by squeezing the man's arm, softly.

It was simple and freeing to talk to someone who could understand.

They only moved, a bit reluctantly, when the cabin started becoming too cold. Jon shivered and that made Tormund stand at the next second, draping the man in a soft blanket before getting busy by starting a fire to heat the place.

Without leaving his eyes off the fireplace, he asks "Can you see if it's still snowing ?" Jon goes to the window, trying to put some weight on his bad foot and finding it less painful already. He doesn't tell Tormund, wanting to stay a bit longer. 

"So?" the red head has finished piling the wood in the fireplace, now standing behind Jon, searching in the darkness outside.

"It stopped snowing," Jon announces, looking for Tormund's eyes in the reflection on the window. "You think- ?"

"You should try calling your friends and family, I'll cook something nice for dinner in the meantime." He pats Jon's back, walking towards the kitchen's corner, already grabbing pots and spatulas.

Jon stand, conflicted between wanting to use the phone and just… enjoy the moment, help cooking or watch, not… No, he has to call Edd and Sam, at least! He can't just have them worry for his sorry ass. He takes the phone out of the jacket's pocket, seeing a small signal bar on the screen.

"Jon," Tormund says, making him turn around to look at him, a bit surprised by the tone and lack of nickname, "If you want some privacy, you can call in the bedroom." 

"No, it's alright, I don't mind. Do you want me to?" Tormund shakes his head, looking down to the potatoes he's now cutting.

So Jon starts by calling Edd, not reaching him but leaving a message, quickly telling him not to worry, that he is alright and also asking him to rest a bit. 

With that done, he called Sam. Oh Sam, he can hear his baby laugh somewhere behind him, Sam's relieved tone pouring into the phone as he asks so many questions. Jon laughs, a bit embarrassed as he tries to detail what his friend wants to know, his gaze on Tormund. The redhead really focused on his cooking, or so he thinks.

Sam keeps asking questions, like he is trying to fill in for the missing day. 

“So tell me, Jon, how is the guy who rescued you? Edd told me he sounded a bit rough, is it hard to stay in his cabin?"

Jon blushes, biting his lips as a habit. Yes, it is getting harder to stay with Tormund and not having it show, because he's falling for the man but he can't really say that now.

"Edd is wary of everyone...It's fine, he is really friendly actually, not at all boring." He tries to ignore Tormund looking up at him, eyes curious and amused.

"What is his name again ?" Sam asks, probably to store the information in his brain forever.

"...Tormund." they lock eyes then, both looking too serious, like having Tormund's name said out loud started making it too real. "I have to hang up now, say hello to little Sam and Gilly from me, goodnight."

He has to cut Sam short, feeling that he would have more questions that he can't answer yet. Now, there are no more calls to do. He remembers only one more number, but he can't just call his brother Robb, not after what happened.

He misses him so much, they used to be really close before Jon left to become a damn cop. He worries about disappointing his brother so much, all because he failed to give justice to their family. Robb has the same honour in his blood that their father had after all, and he is close to their mother who just despises Jon. If being the least favourite child doesn't really do much to Jon's heart anymore, he is deeply scared that his mother destroyed the trust and affection his siblings have for him.

"You went far away again, little bird" Tormund says, bringing Jon back from his thoughts, into the cabin. Potatoes are slowly cooking in a frying pan, next to a pot filled with green beans and meat. "Is everything okay ?" his eyes show concern, eyebrows raised.

Jon gives him a small smile, unsure. He walks to the kitchen’s bar table, sitting on a stool under the questioning gaze. He can tell that Tormund is not fooled by his smile one bit, but there is no prying, for which Jon is thankful.

"You know you just walked, with both your feet?" The redhead says instead, throwing the towel he was using to clean the table with on his shoulder. Like it’s not a big thing at all.

“It’s not hurting anymore ?” as he asks, Tormund walks around the table, holding a hand out for Jon to put his foot in so they can check.

Jon doesn’t move, cursing loudly inside his head. He didn't realize what he was doing, so much for pretending really… 

He answers honestly, bitterness slipping on his tongue: “It doesn't really hurt anymore, just a slight discomfort. It isn't fully recovered, i think, but it also isn’t preventing me from walking."

"If it's healing, why are you making that face?" Tormund frowns, clearly suspicious and waiting for Jon's explanation.

“It’s just…” Jon sighs. It means he will have to leave soon and jump back into an unpleasant mood. He looks away and tries to stop his frustration from forming tears. He really doesn't need this on top of all. "I really don't want to go." 

He doesn’t say more, no details of why he doesn’t want to go. Is that really important anyways? Tormund is getting closer, probably to give a reassuring pats on his back or even a hug but Jon turns away from him, declining it. He can’t accept kindness when he is just being a whiny idiot. His “mother” was right, he is just a weak coward, he doesn’t deserve anything.

“I’ll leave tomorrow,” he announces, resolute. He schools his face into a blank expression, cold like the night outside. “I’ll repay you for everything once I get back to my car.”

“You- Okay, no problem.” Tormund seems a shocked by Jon's cold reaction and doesn't insist. Instead he goes back to the other side of the table, focusing on his cooking with his back on Jon.

The silence becomes unbearable but it stays that way. Jon looks at the table, probably deep into his thoughts, barely reacting when the meal is presented to him. Jon hates himself for being such a shitty guest, for the hopes he had not even hours ago. He was meant to disappoint Tormund, that’s what he does, with everyone.

After eating, they talk little, and Jon offers to do the dishes, Tormund accepting halfheartedly. They have an awkward exchange as they clean everything, stupid sentences going nowhere at all. 

Once they are done, Tormund leaves for his bedroom instead of talking even though it is still early, deciding to rest. They need to leave early in the morning, so that they'll have enough time to walk and make pauses for Jon's foot. Alone again, Jon goes to the bathroom, despises the face he sees in the mirror, hates that he really wanted to keep Tormund’s jacket but changes it back to his thin shirt instead, leaving the warm clothing on the side of the sink.

The whole place is dark, silent, sad.

Jon goes back to the living room, touching the walls as he goes, wanting to keep memories of the place before leaving. The wood is still burning near the couch where he ends up sitting and looking at nothing at all. He wants to cry and scream, to go see his siblings, to apologize to Bran most of all, put flowers on his dad and littlest brother’s graves… He wants Ygritte to come back and jokingly mock his insecurities, he wants Tormund to put his arms around him and tell him things will be alright.

Nothing is alright, at all, and when he sees the covers of the books Tormund bought especially for him, he breaks down in tears.

He doesn't want to leave him.


	7. Lone Tormund 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you believe, they like each other and they FINALLY kiss, that's it, that's the chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good or not, have it
> 
> Comments are lovely,   
> Tell me if I made awful mistakes (I KNOW I did)   
> and  
> What do you think will happen next ~

Tormund is sitting on his bed, feet on the floor, deep in thought. He thinks he went a bit too far with his affection, so Jon closed himself off. His emotions seem really complicated already and he probably isn’t interested in what Tormund might offer. It shouldn't affect him as much as it does.

Jon deserves happiness, he loves his siblings so much, is just a soft guy pretending to be tougher than he is. And by saying that, Tormund doesn't mean that Jon is weak, far from it in fact, there is just way more emotions going through the man than meet the eye.

He just doesn't have to do it all by himself.

Tormund wants to help, feels like he can absolutely become a moral support for the guy, but how do you make it understood while not insisting ? It will have to come from Jon then, if the little bird doesn't keep himself in a ball of self hatred.

A man can only hope.

So Tormund goes to sleep, imagining how his wife would be giving him a pep talk from the afterlife, making him laugh so hard he'd have to hold his sides. 

"Rescue the damn bird, Tormund !" she once told him about an injured crow, holding their two daughters and elbowing her husband. 

He did so, and the bird was a bit difficult at first but quickly understood that it was for his best interest. That crow was the sweetest, his daughters named it "Cocow" and carefully fed him during his stay at their house. When they released him outside, once it looked much better, the bird kept visiting, tapping on the window, bringing little rocks, little trash that his daughters cherished.

Tormund remembers that the bird came to his house one last time when it was only him left in it. That made him smile at the moment, then cry and drink straight from a bottle of vodka.

He moved houses soon after.

Another crow is visiting his house at the moment, lost, broken, all feathers ruffled by his fall. Tormund just needs to be extra careful.

_ 

In the morning, just before dawn, Tormund wakes up. He decides to be in a happy mood for the day no matter what, smiling at the picture of his family on his bed stand.

Today will be good.

He slides to the bathroom, trying not to make too much noise. There, he stops right in his track, seeing the jacket he gave Jon neatly folded on the side of the sink. Jon wants to leave today and there is little to do against it, Tormund has to at least make it go nicely. 

He grabs the jacket and the smell, a mix of the two, goes to his nostrils and stops him again. It's a weird feeling, to share such an intimate thing, it didn't happen in so long. Jon smells of herbal hair product, soft cologne and sweat. Tormund wonders what he smells like to the other, probably of wood, smoke and the oil he uses to tame his hair and beard, not the most satisfying smell he supposes.

Anyways, now is not the time for such nonsense. He puts the jacket down. There is no point in washing it now, Jon will need it for the walk.

As he undresses and drops all his clothes on the floor to go take a shower, Tormund focus on his life in these woods. He thinks about how smart he has been to buy that remote cabin from some random rich ass who wanted everything available : water, cold AND warm, a full kitchen, electricity and some nice space to live. And he got it for cheaper than he thought ! A perfect deal to live with nature and with comfort.

The last owner didn't like being too far from civilization after all, but what really bothered him were the random people, sometime needing help, lost in the woods. Tormund never minded that, in fact he appreciates the ephemeral interactions, it keeps him grounded in the world.

Now is different. Now he has feelings for one of them.

He massages his scalp to wash his worries away, believing in the hours to come. No matter what will happen today, Tormund will give Jon all the options, from simple nice last encounter to friendship or else. He doesn’t want to end the day on a sour note.

_ 

When Tormund gets out of the bathroom, he crashes into Jon but the shock is softer than it should have been. Jon walked face first into Tormund's sweater, a really soft white and mint handmade one.

"In a hurry, are you ?" Asks the redhead with a soft smile, hands on Jon's shoulders, moving out of the way.

Jon barely says a world but it's probably because he looks half asleep and badly needs to use the toilet, walking past Tormund to lock himself inside the room.

In the meantime, Tormund keeps himself busy, changing the bedsheets, picking clothes for their trip in the snow, carefully selecting another big warm jacket and large pants for Jon, laying them on the couch. There is no need to have the crow more miserable and cold.

When Jon goes back to the living area, he’s looking a bit more awake, water droplets falling from his curls and beard. His mood doesn't seem much better, thought, if his sour look on the warm clothes can tell anything.

"Slept well ?" Tormund asks, trying to start the conversation once again as he’s making coffee in the kitchen's corner.

"Barely…” Jon yawns, trying to keep the noise low. He walks towards the kitchen to lean against the fridge. 

Damn, he really is small, looking thin and a bit frail under the ridiculous large pajama pants and a black shirt. Those clothes are hiding his muscles well but not his cuteness, if Tormund may say so. Even with faint dark circles under his eyes, he doesn’t look bad at all. It's a shame that this look comes with a lack of sleep. 

Tormund is about to offer him to stay longer, because who in the right mind would let go of an injured and tired person to walk three hours in the snow and go on his merry way with a car, but he doesn’t say a thing, yet. He just offers a sympathetic smile as they face each others in an awkward silence.

“Need help ? I make wicked good eggs," Jon asks finally, trying to make himself useful, "Or my ex just said that to make me feel good.”

“Well if they ate the eggs and never left a piece, that’d mean something good,” Tormund shrugs. He’s never made good eggs, he’s better with red meat and cakes.

“She often stole from my plate.” Jon smiles at the memory and Tormund nods, appreciating. “She had red hair like you,” he adds, immediately losing his smile, looking horrified by his own action.

Tormund laughs at that, a mix of soft mockery and surprise. He didn't expect that revelation. Sharing that specific color with an ex can complicate things.

To avoid having Jon still looking upset with himself, Tormund pours warm coffee in two mugs and offers one to the other, vaguely pointing to the box of sugar on the counter and the fridge, in case he wants his coffee sweeter. He takes a sip of his, observing as the crow does the same. The poor man's face scrunches up and Tormund laughs harder than before.

“Too strong ?” He moves quickly to get a sugar cube and a spoon to save him.

“Yeah, that’d wake up the deads !” 

Jon has a small smile but still seems to suffer from the strong coffee. He takes the offering, the sugar quickly dissolving as the spoon ticks against the mug. There is another tentative sip, seemingly satisfying this time but despise it, Jon sighs sadly, looking up to Tormund like he has something to tell him.

“Listen, I’m sorry for yesterday.  
-It’s fine, I-” Jon gestures him to stop and so he does.  
-I acted like a dick when you invited me in your home, fed me and even went to town just to do even more things for me when you didn’t have to. For all of that, thank you.” 

Of course Tormund eyes Jon curiously when he puts his mug aside and holds his hand for him to shake. Why even shaking hands like it’s a deal ? Strange but the redhead nods, also putting his mug aside but instead of shaking hands, he opens his arms, inviting, meaning probably more than a simple courtesy. 

They are a bit past that.

Jon hesitates a second but then his face changes, showing determination. He takes a step into the embrace as Tormund slowly leans and closes his arms around his smaller frame. It feels right and reassuring but Tormund also breaks it before it becomes too long, not wanting to overwhelm once again. 

Surprisingly, Jon stays against him, unmoving and clearing his voice.

“I’m awful at this, and I have no idea if I’m reading it all wrong or-” he mumbles, clearly struggling. “I don’t really want to go because I think I...like you ? A lot ? And if you don’t, it’s fine, just tell me, I’ll go and-”

Tormund decides to shush him, softly, and puts his hands on his smaller shoulders, pushing him to arm length, eyes to eyes. He smiles, finding his guest absolutely adorable, awkward. A pretty face with a lot of self esteem issues. His ex probably started their relationship, that's all he can think about. It must have been hard to stay a cop with that kind of behavior, but he can be wrong about it. 

“Little crow, there is too many clouds in that mind of yours. Can I kiss you to clear them up ?” He gives his sweetest smile, reassuring, trying his best not to tower over Jon at the cost of a slight pain in his back. 

That crow is an easily scared one after all.

Jon’s eyes are looking all around Tormund’s face, his lips slightly open, not really believing this is happening. Confusion, nervousness and hope, all cross his face before a mix of the three takes place. That is when he leans slowly, nodding frantically for a few seconds as an answer before licking his lips and expecting.

Someone cruel could have just laughed, breaking Jon’s heart and hopes that he clearly has exposed right at that moment. Good thing Tormund isn’t cruel, his thumbs brushing against Jon’s shoulders. Either Jon really isn’t too experienced in relationships in general or he never kissed a guy and both are fine. 

Such a pretty man, a shame.

When Tormund gets so close to jon that they are sharing breaths, Jon closes his eyes, his face still reading as nervous. Another little “shhh” and Tormund is pushing his forehead against Jon's, then nose against nose and finally their lips meet, softly, barely even there, chaste. 

Jon exhales shakily as once as it's over, his hands grabbing Tormund’s sweater with force, trying to chase the redhead’s lips while his eyes are still closed.

That makes Tormund smiles when the soft lips crashes against his with more force than expected. Jon doesn’t want to let go of it, and that is perfectly fine. Tormund’s hands go up, one against Jon’s jaw and the other playing with the damp hair. If the action is absolutely wonderful by itself, that also makes Jon moans and that just is heaven on earth.

It becomes more serious as Jon gains confidence, his breathing heavy, not trying to keep his voice down when Tormund nips at his lower lip. Jon is absolutely fantastic at this, not really asking for control but not letting himself be controlled either. A slow dance of lips starts then, tentative, moving to their beards, jaws and necks until the crow asks for mercy. 

They part then, hands still on each others, Jon panting and Tormund smiling, satisfied by the look on the other’s face.

“I’ve never- wow,” Jon’s lips are red and he has a smile at the corner of them, pupils blown but barely visible in his dark eyes. He notices Tormund gazing down, amused, and does the same, noticing something embarrassing going on in his pajama pants so he puts his hands in front of it, barely muttering a “I’ll be back,” before dashing to the bathroom.

Tormund’s laugh is so loud it could trigger an avalanche. Really, he could just help the poor guy with it but decides against it. It's not like their exchange didn't make him a bit hungry for more skin anyways.

"Don't just stand in the bathroom," he laughs again, talking loud as he goes in his vinyl pile for a sweet tune. "Take a nice shower, I'll make some pancakes, yeah ?"

The noise he hears doesn't really give much of a clear answer, just an embarrassed acknowledgment. So be it : pancakes à la Tormund !


	8. Jon the unlucky part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two share breakfast and a bit more *wink*  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we entered a new territory, tell me what you think of it !
> 
> Slight warning about thoughts of self injuries and suicide, take care
> 
> (no beta, we die like men, sorry)

Jon smiles to himself, his back against the bathroom's door while Tormund's laugh is passing through, warming his heart and a bit more than that.

He really needs a shower but hasn't decided yet if it'll be hot or cold.

In the meantime, he quickly undresses, ready to die of embarrassment under the shower head but his reflection in the mirror stops him. 

God, the bruises look bad, still darkening and large across his chest. It still hurts when he moves, but he's getting used to it. It's not his first injury after all. Still, he hisses when pressing on them, as if he was expecting another result. 

"What an idiot," he thinks, remembering how stupid he has been, falling so hard and ultimately losing his sister's gift. 

He could have died, so easily.

The thought of Tormund maybe finding his body frozen and pale makes him shiver, feeling ill. And what about his family ? Learning thar Jon died in that mysterious way, but it could have been a desperate move instead of an accident and nobody would have known. After all, he lost his father and littlest brother, his girlfriend dumped him, his job was taking a toll on him and he ended up being fired…

God, those bruises really aren't so bad after all.

Jon enters the shower, choosing warm water to comfort his awful thoughts, bracing himself. The water slowly eases him, cleaning the sweat, dirt and dried blood from his body.

He thinks about Tormund, how the man is making breakfast just behind the wall, looking both so intense and soft, caring and alive. Jon focuses on him, on his smile, his rough but warm touch, the way his beard tickled when they kissed- They really did it, the best thing that happened to Jon in quite a while.

He has that weird little feeling telling him he shouldn't do this, that he should just keep going by himself and stop being so damn weak but a major part of him is feeling revived.

Who really just accepted him as broken and loved him anyways ?

He just wants to feel safe, to let go of pressures and worries, is that so bad ? During their kisses, Jon felt safe, grounded, hopeful. He doesn't want to let go of it.

Once out of the shower, Jon dries himself mindlessly, still thinking about what could happen, what should be done. He has to face his mother and see his siblings, as soon as possible. The thought of maybe having the chance to come back to Tormund may greatly help.

He dares dreaming.

"Pancakes ready !" shouts Tormund, close enough to the bathroom's door that Jon jumps at the high sound. He quickly slides back into his clothes, a bit upset that they are dirty but it has to do.

When he leaves the bathroom, the smell of soap is replaced by an overwhelmingly sweet one. Jon is starving, walking quickly toward the smell. He sees two generous plates of fluffy pancakes with what he thinks are pieces of pears and Tormund is pouring melted chocolate on top of it all.

"That's…" Jon wants to say really appetizing, because his mouth is watering already, but he ends up saying "decadent" instead, making the other man laugh.

"It is ! But it's for special events only" Tormund winks, making clear what the event is.

They sit next to one another, their legs touching since the bar table clearly wasn't made for multiple people. It feels nice. 

Tormund looks at Jon who takes his first bite, delighted. When he was living with his friends, Jon often had the surprise of good homemade breakfasts on weekends, but he never really bothered to cook when he was by himself. And this ? This is heaven.

"So good," he smiles, eyes meeting Tormund's. It's a tender moment, he realizes, and so he puts one hand on the redhead's arm, wanting to say something more.

He wants to say something meaningful, or a joke on how perfect at everything Tormund seems to be, or anything at all ! But no words are coming, so he only squeezes Tormund's arm, hoping his message will still be understood before moving his hand back to his fork.

It seems to work as Tormund smiles, looking so proud. He has all the rights to be, it's delicious ! So much in fact that they continue in silence, appreciating the mix of textures and sweetness.

Jon feels obligated to clean up after they are done eating, appreciating the domestic atmosphere that settles in as Tormund dries the dishes, humming to the song playing in the background.

"Thank you," Jon says suddenly, surprised when Tormund leans and leaves a kiss on top of his head. "Well-" he has nothing to say, just standing there with a smile plastered on his face.

"Not used to that kind of affection, right ?  
-Not really.  
-If I overdo it, tell me. I don't want to mess up with your boundaries."

Jon could melt under the caring gaze he's given. Boundaries, he doesn't even know how to define his anyways, he has barely any clues about what he doesn't want but he craves what Tormund is giving him so far.

"I like it, I just don't know how to react ?" He grips the side of the sink, not knowing what to do with his hands, embarrassed. "I've never been with another man and-" he wants to say that he probably wasn't the best boyfriend since his ex dumped him but he stops himself. "I'm discovering a lot of things right now."

"Take your time, I'm not going to push you for answers or force you into anything."

Jon thinks about what he wants and in a way the answer is easy : he wants Tormund. 

He wants him to simply hug him from behind, making him feel small and protected. He wants to taste all the food he can cook. He wants him to make him smile and cry with how wonderful he is…He wants it all and more.

Jon turns, looking up at the redhead, at the reassurance in his eyes. God, he wants it all. He bites his lower lip a bit mindlessly, being way too conscious of it when Tormund's eyes flickers to it before looking back in his eyes.

"Kiss me," Jon demands, his voice sounding so weak but he's never been so sure before. Tormund obliges, leaning and kissing him softly but it's over almost as fast as it started.

"Harder," Jon demands again, and a hand slides against his neck, secure, before another kiss happens, hungrier, forcing Jon to hold onto Tormund's soft sweater.

"Harder," Jon whispers, eyes closed, fists gripping the sweater like dear life. He hears Tormund's shaky exhale and it drives him crazy.

He is slowly pushed against a kitchen cabinet, pinned against it as the kiss becomes more heated. His bruises burn but he doesn't care, only appreciating the burn of the beard against his lips and the hand on his waist, securing.

One of Tormund's leg is slowly making its way in between Jon's ones, stopping just before going too far. The redhead only breaks the kiss to looks down then back to Jon's eyes as a silent question "Can I ?" 

Jon nods, chasing for another kiss as Tormund's thigh brushes right where he needs it. It feels good, like he was meant to be there, meant to moan in another man's mouth, desperate and needy.

He doesn't even try to think, his worries gone for the time being, but he isn't an animal. So he slides his hands down the sweater, grabbing the hem of it and asking the permission for more as he catches his breathe.

"Everything you want," is the answer he gets and it really shouldn't make him feel that way.

Tormund moves a little and Jon is suddenly too cold, wants him close again but he realizes it's to take his sweater off. There is a shirt under, tucked in Tormund's pants, that Jon already grabs to also take it off, making the redhead laugh, so low.

The clothes are abandoned god knows where, Jon doesn't care, going in for another kiss before even looking at the skin. His only concern at the moment is to stop shaking before touching the man's torso. Which he does, feeling the indecent warmth and flex of the muscles under his fingers.

Tormund barely moves at all, breathing low against Jon's lips, his leg still and Jon is almost losing it because he feels like Tormund doesn't want to distract him from his exploration.

Touching a strong and yet soft torso is such a weird feeling. Jon doesn't know what to do, feelings the hair of the man's happy trail, hearing him gasp at the soft touch… He should have tried men sooner, he thinks in a corner of his mind, but also feels glad to start with this one.

He has to look, whispers a "sorry" against Tormund's lips before moving his head on the side.

It is breathtaking to have someone exposed for you, your first lover, first woman, first man… Tormund is everything Ygritte isn't, tall, hairy, protective and it's messing up with Jon's mind.

His hands go up, pressing more than caressing but enjoying it all the same, and by the sounds Tormund is making, he likes it too. Red chest hair, soft under his touch, making Jon wonders how that would feel against his torso, if it'd burn when pressed against each other while f- 

God, he's so gone.

He presses himself down on Tormund's thigh by reflex and his head falls on the man's shoulder, sighing loudly at the sensation. He throws his shame away, he needs to get off. The soft voice of Tormund telling him "let me help" in his ear only makes him moan pitifully but also accept.

The hand holding his neck is now trailing down his spine, against his ass, going slightly further until two hands grab him and make him sit on the counter.

Jon keeps his forehead on Tormund's shoulder, looking down as fingers plays with his waistband. He wants him, he wants this so much his heart feels like it could explode.

"You sure ?" Tormund asks, his index pulling slowly on the waistband.

"Yes. Please, Torm-" Jon starts but doesn't continue as a hand grabs him, making his sentence ends with a loud moan.

Tormund is gentle but fast, it isn't how Jon is used to but it feels so good, bringing him fast to a point where his mind stops responding. His thighs are shaking and he pants without any care, trying to move to get more of the feeling.

He's far gone when Tormund uses his free hand to force him up a little, so he can see him. Jon can see how dark the redhead's eyes have become, how he's affecting him.

Tormund's thumb is brushing against his cheek, a soft touch in the middle of everything, and Jon doesn't think twice before quickly turning his head and taking the finger in his mouth. It isn't really something new to him, Ygritte introduced it in their relationship because she knew how much he loves biting on things.

She knew too much. Well, maybe not how he'd use it on such a gorgeous man.

The gesture has the effect of a bomb on Tormund, making him groan, pump harder and faster while kissing Jon with a new found determination.

It's too much.

Jon's whole body shakes as his voice gets swallowed by Tormund, his hands holding on the man's forearms, seeking his help to stay grounded but ultimately depending on him.

He never wants to leave his warmth and touch, saying his name against his lips like a prayer, again and again as the man takes care of him.

"It's alright, I've got you now," is too soft, too much.

But it isn't a lie, he's more than alright and Tormund has him.


	9. Lone Tormund 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Jon Snow walks in the snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter with a quick ending, but the next one will be bigger, I promise !

Tormund gently caresses Jon’s hair, keeping the man against his torso while their heartbeats come back to normal. It is difficult to do so for the redhead, he neglected himself after all, but he doesn't expect Jon to give back. 

It isn't about him.

Jon has one hand against Tormund's waist, his thumb brushing the skin there, mindlessly. He may be deep in thought or not thinking at all. It doesn't matter which one, Tormund is patient and appreciative of the small gesture.

So in the meantime, Tormund thinks about what just happened. In a corner of his mind, he worries about Jon and his inner turmoil. Maybe that was a one time thing, maybe he'll close himself down again. That would be a shame, but some habits are hard to break. Still, Tormund has hopes. It might be a bit selfish on his part to have so much expectation for the whole situation, but can you blame him ? He has his own ongoing fight and just had the luck to have the trust of such a lovely man, he wants to keep that.

Jon slowly moves, looking up to meet Tormund's eyes, his gaze so fragile, far from the moment he demanded to be kissed. "Everything's alright ?" is asked and Jon nods with a faint smile. He doesn't really seem to be fine but also doesn't look ready to tell yet, they have to go with it.

"Thank you," he whispers instead, his eyes falling to Tormund's lips, hesitating.

"I'm the one who should say thank you," Tormund says with a smile, simple and honest. 

"I did nothing at all." Jon shrugs and it either is a ploy to appear cuter than he already is or he really believes that.

Not on Tormund's watch. 

"I beg to differ. I could make a list of things you've just done that will fuel me for the rest of my life."

That seems to be a good answer since Jon offers a bright smile, only looking away with slight embarrassment. God, his features are just perfect. He clearly enjoys the attention too, even if he doesn't seem to know how to deal with it.

"I mean," he licks his lips, and Tormund focuses on them, "I didn't reciprocate."

"You don't have to," And Tormund means it, even if it's difficult to not think about it. Jon is clearly shifting in between embarrassed and flirty and it is both a delight and pure hell.

"Later, then ?" Jon asks and his heart is beating fast again, Tormund feels it against bumping against his skin. He seems apprehensive but it doesn't stop him from kissing the redhead.

It is fast, soft, a brush of beards more than anything else. Their lips barely touche but still, it happens and brings even brighter smiles on their face.

"Later," Tormund says, glad to finally know what jon's stance is about it all.

He tamed the crow.

But as much as he wants to keep him here with him, he has to let him go back to his family. For that reason, he steps back to grab his shirt and sweater and put them back on, under Jon's scrutiny. It's only when it's done that Jon carefully hops down the counter, trying to keep his foot in good shape.

Then they just stand in that small kitchen corner, as if nothing really happened. 

Tormund is the first to break the silence. "May I be blunt with you ?" He starts, deciding it's time to address the bad foot issue. Jon nods, a bit uncertain, inviting him to continue. "You shouldn't leave today. It's a long walk and it can, and probably will, mess up your foot again. What you can do is walk around outside, not far and not too long, to see how it goes. To get back to it slowly."

If it goes well, aka if Jon doesn't push it too far, he will probably be able to leave on the next day. He'll walk a bit slower than Tormund's regular pace anyways, but still in a manageable time and without hurting himself back to square one with an intense walk in the snow.

Still, Tormund knew that talking about leaving would put Jon in a weird mood and it does. Jon has a quick change on his face, visibly closing up. He really has troubles with what awaits for him and seems torn up in between two really different things.

"After all of that-" Jon starts, not looking at him for a second, his voice colder. "After I set things straight with my family," he laughs to himself, realizing the irony of his sentence, "can I see you again ?"

God, Jon's voice hurts him, so deliberately cold to hide his feelings as if they weren't pouring out earlier. Tormund feels like no matter what he says right now, Jon will doubt it. It's fine, there is many way to show him what he truly means until his departure.

"Of course ! You better come back, I really like having you around."

He doesn't want what they just started to end. Jon isn't a fling, doesn't feel like it, shouldn't by any mean be one. Tormund wants to know him, good and bad sides, he wants to protect him against himself ! For these reasons, he thinks quickly, not really caring if his next sentence feels a bit too fast in a really fresh relationship, if that's what their thing is. 

"I can even go with you."

"That would be a bit much, don't you think ?" Jon's laugh is humorless, he isn't comfortable with the conversation.

Tormund shrugs at it, needing to explain further. "I don't really see the problem ? You need moral support and I'm willing to give it. I have time and funds." Jon eyes him curiously now, probably thinking about it. "If it doesn't work I'll leave, I'll find a way to come back here. But I can go with you if you want. I mean it."

The silence following is a bit too long, without an answer, and that is expected.

"You decide, I'm just giving you an option." Tormund closes the subject for now, switching back to another just as quickly. "For now, lets see if your foot can handle walking in the snow, okay ?"

Jon nods and they both quickly go in separate rooms to change and put on the warm clothes waiting for them. Tormund does it fast, used to it but also not wanting to let Jon by himself for too long. God knows what he can be thinking about.

When they see each other again, Jon looks funnily miserable. To be fair, Tormund gave him his wife's coat, a 90s looking piece of pink, purple and white, and her orange snow boots. His wife had a strong opinion about her outfit but it was the perfect warmth for her.

Maybe Tormund kept her outfit just to use it today. It's like she knew, in a way.

"I look ridiculous," Jon announces, unable to stay stoic about it. How could he ? He looks even smaller in these clothes and just a general fashion disaster.

"Good thing the point isn't fashion then" Tormund can't help but laugh, it warms his heart in many ways.

Jon looks like a nineties' penguin in Tormund's mind. Ridiculous for sure, but also cute. The mood lift it created cannot be blessed enough.

They quickly finish to get ready, trying not to mess up with the warmth before stepping outside.

The air is fresh and harsh but the sun will soon ease their walk. Tormund is too busy looking after Jon to feel the cold anyways. He looks at him take a few steps, the boots not really made for his feet, not helping at all.

He offers his arm as a support and Jon accepts it in silence, guided by the tall man as they slowly make their way into the woods.

It is absolutely lovely despite the cold melting snow falling on them from the tall branches as the sun starts feeling less shy. Tormund even silently points towards animals still trying to do their business, showing them to Jon who seems to appreciate it, if the smile on his face means anything.

The scenery itself is a damn gift after all. The neverending trees, the ground covered by a snow blanket, the mountains behind them watching over them and the valley down below… Tormund will never not fall in love with it, he hopes that Jon loves it as well. Not everyone loves snow after all, and especially not after a fall and a nightly walk through it.

They are surprised by a fast rabbit running away from them, making them both jump and laugh breathlessly. Tormund finds the moment ideal to start talking, still guiding Jon through the forest at a slow pace.

"Ever tried hunting ?  
-Yeah, younger, with some uncles, but I've never been a big fan of guns.  
-You were a cop…  
-And I didn't like it."

Jon sounds like too many people mentioned that guns and cops indeed go together. It makes Tormund laughs quietly, another surprise, huh ? To be fair Tormund doesn't like guns either.

"Sure, but I mean hunting with a bow, old school type." 

Tormund stops walking to mime using a bow for no other reason that he can and Jon looks amused and full of questions.

"Is that how you hunted the rabbit we ate ?"

"Yes, I mostly hunt rabbits, there is no need for me to hunt bigger." He stops for a second, because Jon's gaze is oddly suspicious, that or the light is blinding him. "I'm not a reclusive killer who hunts people for fun, stop looking at me like that."

"I just can't picture you with a bow.  
-With what then ?  
-I don't know… An axe ?"

Tormund's laugh is loud, finding the answer way funnier than it should be. He can see that, yes, but also picturing himself hunting poor rabbits with an axe is even more ridiculous than Jon's outfit.

"In another life, maybe !"

In another life, if Tormund held an axe, then Jon held a sword and probably still was as tortured and pretty as today. Just with a better outfit, really.

"I always loved bows," Jon says, back on track, "I just never tried using one."  
-I could teach you, you know.  
-You could" Jon whispers, another smile on his face. That alone tastes like a small victory to the tall man.

Silence falls back, comfortable as they walk a bit more. Tormund brings them to a high spot where they can see most of the valley, just above the trees.

It looks breathtaking and Tormund feels Jon's grasp getting a bit more firm on his arm. He cannot tell what the other is thinking but he is glad to just show him the view. It looks even better in autumn, and maybe Jon will be there to see it then.

They just stand there and observe the horizon, bathed in a soft sun, just the two of them as time seems to have stopped. 

Jon breaks the silent contemplation to thank Tormund with a tight voice. He isn't insensitive to the view after all. The redhead doesn't think twice before leaving a quick kiss on the top of his head, to tell him it's reciprocated.

"We should walk back now."

And they do, slower because the path to the cabin goes up and because Jon's foot doesn't like it very much. But even with his injury, Jon seems to get used to the boots and surroundings, his steps careful but also more assured.

Like he was made for it.

Tormund likes that Jon isn't even half like the citizen he thought he would be, or that he is actually quite determined and strong. A pity that some problems are slowing him down, because the guy would be unstoppable. Or maybe that's why ?

They step back in the cabin after a while, peeling their clothes off to feel free of their movements again. Tormund starts a fire to dry everything and keep their warmth to a comfortable level while Jon sits on the couch next to it, trying to take the boots off.

The flames rise up and Tormund turns toward Jon, seated on the wooden table in front of the couch. He silently offers his help and it is honestly more courting than helpful but Jon doesn't seem to mind.

Tormund did that exact same thing with his wife years ago. The parallel doesn't escape him.

"So, how's your foot ?" he asks, trying to downplay his own actions, as if jon's ankle isn't resting on the palm of his hand.

"It's fine." Jon looks at him with silent words spilling out of his eyes.

It's at that moment Tormund understands he'll go with Jon, that the decision is made and final.


	10. Jon the unlucky part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another day, the last, in Tormund's cabin.  
> Jon is thinking a lot, but in the end he just goes with what his heart is telling him to do :  
> Love Tormund.
> 
> Also this chapter can be called "Lore time and a little bonus"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta because who cares at this point ?  
> I hope it's still alright to read, tell me in the comments !
> 
> This is a BIG chapter, but this is not the end, no, no

Today feels surreal, and it isn't even noon yet. Jon is torn up between wanting to give in, to be a respectable human being or to run away. The last one isn't an available option anymore, even if he could, more or less, physically do it. 

He is done with running away.

Instead, he is currently switching clothes in the bathroom. Tormund asked if he wanted clean clothes so Jon changed back in the goofy pajama pants and a new jacket the redhead gave him. A classical lumberjack jacket, a red flannel too big for him. In a corner of his mind, he already makes plans to keep it, his hands clutching at the soft fabric like dear life.

He loves this, sharing clothes, feeling secure in them, not alone and warm.

After a long minute enjoying the texture and warmth of the jacket, Jon finally moves, throwing his dirty clothes in the washer and starting it like Tormund told him to. 

That's one thing done.

He comes back in the living area at the same time as the redhead does. Tormund went outside again, to the small shed juxtaposed to the cabin to bring more wood. Some to burn, some to carve. Seeing him holding that much wood under his arms does something to Jon, he can't deny that he appreciates the strength.

Tormund looks at him with fond eyes before finishing his action, carefully piling the wood and humming some unknown tune again.

Jon wishes he could just go to the other man, to embrace or kiss him, but that isn't how he acts. At least not yet. He has to do with receiving more than giving, which is already melting his heart.

"I plan on carving today," the tall man announces, "so I can give some pieces to sell when we go to the town tomorrow, is that okay ?"

He picks up a cardboard box next to his chair, opening it to show many small pieces of carved figures. Stylized animals seem to be the majority of it all, but there is also characters straight up looking like old scandinavian chess pieces.

They all look fantastic and Jon steps closer to take one in hand and observe the details, admiring the work on a specific piece, a sitting bear with curious eyes. From what Jon can observe, a major part of them is done or only missing details. 

"They're really well done, is that your job ?  
-Nah, more of a hobby I get some money out of." 

Tormund doesn't give more details and Jon doesn't insist, looking at another piece instead, one resembling a northern god. That style is close to what Jon saw in museums, it has an antique look to it, probably done on purpose. 

"So, uh, in the meantime you can read some of the books I brought you, I don't have much activities to offer…" Tormund thinks, frowning while counting them on his fingers. "Mh, sewing back clothes isn't an option, cutting wood either, hunting…"

Jon smiles at him and shrugs, grabbing yet another piece of carved wood to admire. He doesn't have his reading glasses but he can read a little before his eyes give up. To be fair, he mostly wants to observe Tormund carving, he is curious about his work.

"I'll be fine, I can read for a while, don't worry about me." To prove his point, he flops on the couch and grabs one of the books nearby.

Tormund sighs with a smile, moving the box down and getting his tools ready. He looks like another man then, so focused on his work, silent and careful, moves precise.

Jon doesn't really bother with the book past ten pages and it's not because the plot is boring, but all of his attention is being taken away by Tormund's work. He really is too captivated by the delicate carvings, looking above the book, not trying to be discreet about it. It doesn't even matter because Tormund doesn't acknowledge him in the slightest.

Many little pieces are carefully finished that way, in a comfortable silence, with the faint smell of wood filling the room. At that point, Tormund has a thin blanket of wood chips covering his legs, some smaller pieces stuck in his beard.

Jon cannot fight the smile growing on his face while observing the man, taking in the full picture to keep in his mind forever. He feels himself becoming irrational, a twist of worries mixed with a new born love that is winning on all fields.

Sure, he didn't even come out or anything to his family, so adding that to the existing case of drama isn't ideal...But he's not going to be alone this time ! And that, even if a part of his mind reminds him that it was the same with Ygritte, he thought she would stay by his side.

His smile falls, remembering her rage and disappointment when she gathered her belonging before looking at him, shaking her head and not even slamming the door behind her as closure. He had been a major fuck up back then and can be one again. He is a giant fuck up in the shape of a man after all-

"Jon," Tormund brings him back to earth again, his voice and eyes soft.

Jon doesn't feel like he deserves anything kind from this man or anyone but he still craves it. So much in fact that he doesn't fight it when Tormund stands, wood chips falling all around the table and chair, as he gets close to him.

He really is that transparent to have Tormund read his face so easily, a shame, just a shame. It makes him cringe.

"Hey, want to talk about whatever is going through your pretty head ?" Tormund tries to light up the mood and Jon smiles at the attempt, really does find it sweet.

"I'm just…" he moves his hands, showing that he might be losing it, shrugging as to tell Tormund to not take it seriously. "Don't worry about it."

"I'm not insisting, but if you need to talk, I'm right here, okay ?" He pats his leg gently, looking ready to move on to something else.

Jon acknowledges the offer and softly thanks him but he doesn't add anything. 

He can't really just talk about how his ex girlfriend was doing some serious illegal activities with a bunch of others, and how he fucked all up by arresting some of them. He had their case on his desk ! He was doing an investigation on them, and he gathered infos, despites not trying to, just by hanging around with her !

To be fair, he tried to just push that case down, because no matter how illegal their activities were, they weren't hurting anyone. It was just some big money affair ! And that was the problem. Someone paid the police to have the case solved and Jon took a lot of pressure from his asshole-of-a-boss and some colleagues. 

In the end, Jon had to work with a team and was under heavy scrutiny for seemingly not doing his job properly. Until the very end, he tried to downplay the whole thing, because stealing a huge amount of money from some rich guys really isn't the worst crime existing, Robin Hood is a hero after all ! But they found them, because in the end, Jon couldn't just go against it.

He managed to tell Ygritte so she could leave before they arrested most of them but the problem is that he lied to her when they first started dating. He told her that he worked in the police but not as an agent, just in administration so when he had to say the truth, it worked as smooth as you'd expect. She waited for him to come home to his small apartement, rightfully angry, explained her cause, gathered her belongings and left.

The worst part is that he was agreeing with everything she was furious about. He fucked all up.

Anyways. 

Back to that lovely cabin where Tormund gives him a plate. They are eating lunch on the small wooden table, surrounded by wood chips and little characters. Tormund prepared a quick lunch with most of the perishable food he had and Jon only realizes why as he bites down into it : Tormund is clearing his place to go with him.

Jon is nervous, he doesn't want to disappoint and at the same time he feels like Tormund going with him is reassuring. He is a complete mess, apprehending the situation and weirdly longing for the man.

Doubts and fears are eating him away as he cleans the dishes and hang his clothes to dry. It’s not long after that his troubles dissipate a bit, when Tormund starts joking and messing around with kitchen appliances. Jon focuses on him then, looking at his antics and expressions, trying to help with the organization but, more often than not, it makes things even more confusing.

Tormund tries his best to make Jon smiles in the process and it's working. Jon truly appreciates it and shows it by squeezing the redhead's arm sometimes. The radiant smiles Tormund gets just after he does so are priceless.

Jon loves him.

"Thank you," he says suddenly, his back on Tormund, not feeling brave enough at the moment to face the man.

He jumps when a bearded chin finds a resting place on his shoulder. "Is this okay ?" Is asked and Jon hums positively. Two arms slowly close around his waist, keeping Jon there, safe. The gesture does wonders to improve his mood as he even puts his own hands on Tormund's. 

He relaxes under the touch, feeling the warmth against his back, laughing when the bushy beard brushes against his, ending with a peck on his cheek. It is nothing more than that for a couple of minute, perfect. It tells him that he should stop thinking so much, that he is safe right now.

"I'm going with you, to help and assist, not to be a burden, okay ?" Tormund whispers in Jon's hair. "So tell me what's going on in your mind so I can do that, please."

Jon hesitates but tells him about Ygritte, about his treason and the doubts taking him whole as he feels them dripping into his words, his grip on Tormund's hands becoming tighter. He fears his judgement more than anything else at that very moment, closing his eyes once he is done speaking.

"You really loved her, right ?" Is the first question Tormund asks and Jon nods, already knowing what the following will be. "Then why did you lie to her ?"

Simple : he despised his job at that point already. He hated the fact that he had strong principles that were stomped by his hierarchy and a corrupt system. He thought that hiding his true job would make him more appealing and true to himself, because so many people either see cops as above everything else for the greater good or they see cops as awful bastards following their own fascist agenda. 

One being closer to the truth than the other.

He didn't want his status to change how she viewed him. That's what he explains to Tormund, hoping it'll make sense. In the same way, he follows with his stance on police and how he had a stupid dream and hoped he could change the system for the better, for the citizens rather that the states. He found people sharing his beliefs on the matter, became friend with them and they all tried to go against the corruption and bullshit.

It resulted in three of his friends quitting due to pressure and threats and him being fired. One of them is still trying to make things change, to this very day. Edd is one tough son of a bitch, in the best way possible.

"I've never been fond of cops, they only seem kind of good in some movies" Tormund confesses, adding a "until recently, at least." He squeezes Jon gently before releasing him from his grasps to continue organizing for the following day.

"I maybe respect four cops out of the hundreds I met. That's really low…" Jon finishes. He thinks the conversation is over, ready to check on his clothes and just leave it at that but Tormund continues.

"I was the worst teenager. I did a lot of crap because I was bored and lonely. At the time, cops were always on my back and only one of them, an old dude, was kind to me because he got it, he understood me. That old fart was fun, but then he retired and it went to hell with douches thinking they were better than anyone else." 

He talks while moving around the room so Jon sits and waits for more, eager to know more about him.

"Cue to me leaving my hometown, with bikers, because it seemed reasonable at the time. We were a bit wild, sure, but not dangerous. Still, cops were making our lives a living hell ! We were doing more than them for poor dudes but anyways…"

He clears his throat, looking a bit softer, his eyes looking far away, way past the walls of the cabin.

"I met my wife during a bikers meeting ! Can you imagine, me, beardless and thin as a stick. Ha, we were so young and ridiculous next to strong bikers, but we fell in love and decided to find a little place of our own, work there and, well… You know the rest."

Jon nods with a small smile, because Tormund wants to remember the positives about his family, about his wife and his daughters Elise and Hilde.

"Me and Moira were… neglected kids and we wanted to make a family of our own, we were fully ready to love our kids no matter who they turned out to be." 

"And you did," Jon says, because he knows Tormund was a wonderful dad just by hearing him talk about his daughters.

"And we did." Tormund sniffles a little, small tears appearing at the corner of his eyes but he's still smiling and keeping them in.

Jon knows it's his turn to give reassurance and support, doing so by standing and offering a simple hug, patting the taller man's back, receiving a thankful gaze.

They are standing and living, they are making their family proud.

"Emotional, aren't we ?" Tormund laughs, his whole body shaking with it as he gently mocks himself.

"Two complete mess."

"Fate threw you off that cliff to rival with my angst, little crow."

Jon laughs in return, because it seems like it, indeed ! He has to thank fate for that one only. He notices that Tormund stopped laughing to observe him and also falls silent. 

They are sharing a moment.

Tormund leans to put his forehead against Jon's as they still embrace each other. Jon wants to blurt out the words sitting heavy on his heart but the redhead beats him to it, in a way.

"I am so glad you came, whatever the mess that brought you here.  
-Well, I am glad you opened your door to a stranger that night."

Jon wants to kiss him, wants to give in to show him that he can do it, that he cares about him in many ways. But he worries about overstepping so he only moves his head until his nose brushes against Tormund's.

"We should finish organizing for tomorrow," Tormund suggests, still unmoving.

"We should," Jon really doesn't want to let go but he does reluctantly.

The two break their embrace and go back to their occupations, still looking at the other whenever they can. The tension between them is clear and is only waiting for the right moment to break free.

Tormund is moving quickly through the cabin, and also outside, to have everything ready for the trip. He has a seemingly never ending list that he slowly crosses out during the next hour or so while Jon does whatever he can on the side. 

Jon feels like he's moving slowly next to Tormund's frantic pace. He gathers his dry clothes, folding them for tomorrow, takes care of the fire as best as he can and purposely leaves the books there, next to the couch, hopeful to come back to read them after everything.

As Tormund isn't done with details and securing the place after a couple of hours, Jon even tries to call his friends again to give them some news, pacing around the living room to work his foot as much as he can. It's good to hear the familiar voices of his friends. 

Edd barely hides his exasperation for the police's office he's currently in, talking loudly enough to make sure people around can hear him complain to Jon. It's not like they can do anything against him, he does his job better than most of them anyways.

He even has news about his two other friends, ex cops now owners of a really small bar. If Edd sounds like he barely cares about them, Jon knows better, and it feels nice to know that even if they are not working together anymore, they still have each other's back.

Sam is really curious for some reasons, asking way too many questions and laughing at Jon's obvious embarrassment. He can tell that something is up but still, Jon isn't going to tell anything, at least not yet. He is saved by Gilly, exchanging few words with her and even some unintelligible ones with Sam Junior.

And before they know it, night is here and diner is also already knocking on the door. 

The two make sandwiches with what's left of the food, making small talk again. Jon is tense but not in a bad way. If his mind tells him that it might be the last night he will spend here, his guts tell him that he’ll come back and Tormund’s eyes are reassuring enough for him to end up believing it.

Still, he’s mostly tense because he wants to make a move, wants to give back to Tormund for a lot of things but he doesn’t know how to start talking about it.

The dishes are quickly done, the kitchen is clear for the next day, they stand there once again, with words on the edge of their lips. Jon can clearly tell that Tormund wants to talk so he lets him do so, knowing that he is better at it anyways.

“You can sleep in my bed tonight, if you want,” Tormund offers and it isn’t what Jon expected, at all. “It is more comfortable than the couch.”

Jon turns toward the named couch and sure, it wasn’t too wide and not really giving him the best support for his back, but it was good enough. Still, he’s not going to deny sleeping in a bed, not when he can sleep next to Tormund, he can do that, absolutely. He nods and almost whispers his answer, making Tormund smile as he gets invited to get ready for sleep. 

One last log is added to the fire.

Jon quickly goes to the bathroom to get ready for bed, his nerves shaking him to his core as he tries to keep it cool. He keeps trying while he steps out of the room to wait in the small bedroom where he stands awkwardly. He tries to occupy his mind by looking around but trying not to snoop too much. He still can’t help himself as he looks at the picture of Tormund’s family posing in front of a fountain.

Tormund deserves so much happiness.

Jon jumps when the bathroom's door opens and quickly turns around to face a shirtless Tormund. He feels his cheeks burning and wants to scream but keeps his mouth shut.

"I really can't sleep with a shirt on, I hope you don't mind ?" Tormund dares to ask, looking a tiny bit ashamed of himself.

"I think we're past that," Jon says back, knowing that his face is red now.

Tormund laughs, his beautiful laugh, and a lot of tension is being immediately lifted. He looks so good that Jon indulges in looking him up and down, trying not to stare too long at the funny designs on the man's underwear.

"You're right. Feel free to… make yourself comfortable as well."

Jon looks down to the flannel shirt he's wearing, knowing he has to take it off or else he'll slowly cook in it. The funny pajama pants stay on, obviously. As he unbuttons the shirt, he can feel Tormund's gaze on him but he doesn't dare looking up, not before the shirt is off him and left on a chair next to the bed.

"Do you have a favorite side ?" Is Tormund's next question.

That only makes Jon blushes more as his brain makes the question seems dirtier than it should be. He is a horny idiot tonight it seems…It is way better than being eaten alive by insecurities anyways. He only manages to answer with a shake of his head, seeing Tormund walks to the left side, opening the sheets to slide under them. He mimics him on the opposite side.

They are now lying down, great.

Jon feels his heart beating way too hard, so hard Tormund might hear it. He feels stupid but also way too hopeful for his own good. Now is the time ! He doesn't want to face the wall or the ceiling so he turns toward him instead, seeing him do the same.

Here they are in the dim lit room, face to face, on a bed.

He burns to touch him again, even if it's just with his fingertips, and he's pretty sure his gaze says it all because when he opens his mouth to voice his needs, Tormund answers with a : "everything you want."

No more thinking or doubts, Jon just closes the gap, one hand on the warm skin of Tormund's side, one leg daring to touch another, his lips sealed to his for a moment. "Desire, take me whole" flashes through Jon's mind as he hears the shuddering breath of the sweet redhead.

"I want you," he whispers against Tormund's lips, as honest as he can get. 

The filters he had before pretty much vanished. He might have regrets and doubts later, but right now there is one word in his mind, Tormund. The novelty of it all, the deep affection he already feels, the secure feeling, it's overwhelming him so deeply. He repeats it internally as his hands caress the man's side, his skin burning his palms.

"I'm all yours, little crow," Tormund says with a smile, amused and clearly aroused now.

Jon realizes that he has been given a green light and decides to act on impulse, pushing the other man to have him lying on his back and quickly straddling him by sitting on his groin. They both look surprised by what just happened for a couple of seconds before laughing breathlessly. 

Jon holds himself up with his hands flat on Tormund's abs, caressing the man's happy trail. He is so strong, it sends a jolt of electricity through him, stopping his laugh as he looks into the redhead's eyes.

What he sees is anticipation. Strong hands slowly going up Jon's thighs, making him shiver. It gives Jon the motivation to rock his hips slowly, making both of their breath shake at how wonderful it feels. They already are hard, how easy was that.

"Jon-" Tormund looks absolutely handsome under him, his hands exploring higher on his thighs, eyes never breaking contact, so eager.

Jon doesn't really think before grinding a bit harder on Tormund's groin, not even finding in himself the will to smile, just amazed by how it makes him feel and how already wrecked Tormund looks.

He really doesn't deserve any credit for his moves, it's only a replica of what has been done to him that he found especially nice. For a quick second he tries to picture Tormund on top of him instead, doing the same thing, but he doesn't like it as much.

Maybe he was made to enjoy that position. God, he feels filthy and is loving it. 

"Fuck- You're so beautiful," Tormund tells him as he grabs Jon's ass and presses him down harder.

Jon hisses but in a pleasured way, his hands slip from Tormund's abs and he catches himself before crashing onto him. He puts his arms firmly on each sides of Tormund's torso, now low enough to have his belly brush against his, their mouths almost close enough to kiss. His hair are in the way but he still sees Tormund's gaze with one eye as the rocking start to find a rhythm. 

He is a mess, barely thinking, only seeking more sensations of pleasure as small noises are forming in his throat. He looks wrecked, feels wrecked, and the fact that they are both still wearing some clothes is making everything more desperate and Jon loves it.

"Tormund," he starts, without a sentence in mind, only needing the word on his lips as he keeps seeking more by pressing down harder, feeling the heat under him.

What sends him over the edge is simply Tormund grabbing on his waist, feeling his strong hands there just kills him on the spot and he isn't even ashamed of it. His whole body shudders and arcs, his arms are shaking but he stays strong, coming in the most ridiculous pajama pants in history.

"Gorgeous, fucking gorgeous," Tormund's voice is so deep, beautiful.

Hearing him reminds Jon that he wanted to give back, already feeling tired but pushing through his recovery to do something. 

He slides off of Tormund's groin, hearing him whines at the change, probably desperate and disappointed but not really voicing it. Jon moves heavily on the mattress, gulping at the sight of Tormund's abs moving up and down and also at the leaking head poking out of his underwear.

He knows what he has to do, what he wants to do, only looking in Tormund's eyes to gather the strength to do so and also his approval. 

Well, Tormund barely offers any help since he is too far gone to really be more than observant at the moment. No problem, Jon can do it and is about to, grabbing the thin fabric to pull it slightly down.

"You don't have to-" Tormund starts, too late as he is cut by Jon's lips swallowing him. He makes a strangled noise, gone in an instant.

Jon doesn't move, decided to get it all, twirling his tongue to experiment, not as much weirded out as he thought he would be. The bitter taste surprises him but he swallows mindlessly, his eyes catching Tormund's wrecked ones.

His heart misses a beat. He's filthy and yet, Tormund looks at him like he is the most beautiful being in the world.

After a short moment, Tormund shifts, holding himself with one arm. He brings one hand to cup Jon's jaw, his thumb brushing his beard slowly. Jon licks one last time, feeling the body under him shuddering, before following the guidance of the hand cupping his jaw.

It brings him up to Tormund's face, tired and content, a mirror of his expressions. The kiss they exchange right after is sloppy but they don't mind. Nothing else but them matter at the moment.

They keep kissing, feeling more and more tired, forcing themselves to move and clean their mess without any words but a thousand gaze.

Soon after they slide back in bed, naked this time, not fully back on earth yet. They shift a lot, trying to find a perfect position to sleep, not wanting to part from the other, kissing softly, whispering sweet nothing.

In the end, Jon uses Tormund's chest as a pillow, finding comfort in his heartbeat, holding him tight and being held just the same. His doubts aren't back and he's going to savor that night like not many before, deeply hoping he'll fall asleep in those arms a lot more.

Right before falling asleep, he feels a soft kiss on top of his head and could cry from how happy that makes him.

He loves it here, feels free, protected, trusted, all of his worries lifted. He truly fell from the mountain to fall in love with a lonely man. Fate really is working in a strange way.


	11. Lone Tormund 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to leave the cabin !

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bless @Miss_Rust for the beta !!  
> (next chapter will be fam time for SURE)

chapter 11: Lone Tormund

Tormund dreams of fighting ice zombies, next to Jon. The battle is intense and weird, way more violent than any dream should be. It feels like hours of darkness and screams, keeping close to the other man until a dragon appears, screeching and making the ground shake by the sheer power of the sound. Tormund gets separated from Jon then, seeing him charge the terrifying beast with a bloodied sword, his scream almost inhuman.

When a blue flame surrounds Jon, Tormund jerks up awake.

His heart is beating fast and it takes a while to calm down. He blinks multiple times before his brain replaces him where he currently is. He is safe, in a warm bed, in his cabin, with the man he just fought next to in a dream. Alright.

The night is still going strong and there is no light coming through the blinds at all. Maybe it’s snowing again, thick clouds covering the stars and suffocating the sky. It doesn’t matter, the room is warm enough and the bed is comfy. He should be back asleep in no time.

Jon and he aren’t touching anymore. Maybe Tormund moved during his strange dream, or their bodies just drifted away. Sighing, Tormund tries to get comfortable again, his head flopping on his soft pillow, facing where Jon is, feeling the presence and warmth emanating from his body.

He recalls pieces of the dream, the positive ones, the way Jon looked in armour, holding a sword, feral and desperate. It had a beautiful side to it, making him smile. Oh, the imagination he has, he needs to tell Jon in the morning. 

With his eyelids feeling really heavy, Tormund slowly drifts toward sleep.

Suddenly, he's wide awake again, disturbed by Jon’s body suddenly twitching in his sleep.

It is quick and ends up with Jon sitting upright, moving his head around, probably confused as to where he is for the first couple of seconds. Tormund asks him if he’s alright in a really low whisper and doesn’t get an answer. Well, he doesn’t get words but gets the man flopping back closer to him after huffing.

It is absolutely melting Tormund's heart when Jon nests in his arms, his head under his chin, seeking close proximity as he doesn't even seem half awake. In a matter of seconds, the little bird falls back asleep, as quickly as he woke up. A really surprising man.

Tormund follows him soon after.

_

Hours later, Tormund wakes up again, this time, less nicely. It was a nightmare, twisted memories tainted with unnecessary gore. He hated it, still does now that he is awake, sweaty and cold on his back, one hand wiping his face as the other is gone buried under Jon’s body.

He didn’t wake him, which is good.

Sadly, Tormund doesn't fall back asleep, despite the warmth and reassuring presence of the man next to him grounding him. He waits instead, listening to Jon, glad he is at peace.

A couple of hours later, light starts being seen in between the blinds. The sun is not up yet, but it is good enough for Tormund to get out the bed and go take a long shower, trying to wash out the remnant of his nightmare and the tiredness that came with it.

The lack of sleep makes him doubt and think too much. He hopes he's not going too fast with Jon. He really likes him, it's the fastest he's ever felt so close to someone. For a moment he's afraid that he took advantage of the other man's weaknesses. After all, Jon has issues and obviously craves stability and reassuring…To be fair, Tormund also has his own issues. And he also craves what Jon can offer him.

Tormund feels like he lost a lot of social skills during his isolation. It shouldn't be so complicated, Moira would be laughing at him.

-

After what seems like an hour in the bathroom, Tormund walks back in the dark bedroom, a towel wrapped around his hips, ready to find some clothes without bothering Jon with what's left of his sleep.

Well, Jon is awake. Seemingly since a little while. He sits up as soon as Tormund enters the room and turns the bedstand's lamp on. He looks sadder than usual.

"Everything's alright ?" 

Tormund steps closer to the bed and two arms yank him on it. It shouldn't be surprising how strong Jon is, but he still didn’t expect it. Tormund is awkwardly sitting at the end of the bed, almost falling backwards onto Jon, but then there's warmth against his back and arms around his neck.

That makes the redhead laugh, genuinely beaming at the action, flopping his head back and landing it on Jon's shoulder.

"That's a surprising morning ritual," he says with a smile, feeling Jon's huffs against his hair. It feels really nice to have him like this. It feels right.

"You weren't there when I woke up," is all Jon says back, burying his face in Tormund's wild hair.

They stay like this for a couple of minutes, Tormund silently playing with Jon's strands of hair, before finally moving. The first thing Tormund notices is that Jon moves like a sad grandpa, complaining about his disregard for his injuries the night before and paying the price for it now. He exaggerates for their amusement, obviously appreciating the extra care Tormund provides him for it, helping him with his clothes.

They do not talk much beside small talk after that, getting rapidly ready to leave the cabin behind for who knows how much time. Jon doesn't look upset, which is nice. In fact he seems rather relaxed as he gathers his bag for the walk and later looks behind as they put more distance in between them and the cabin. 

He has a fond look on his face and Tormund loves that he does.

They walk in the snow, half tired. Tormund starts explaining his dream in details and answering Jon's amused questions before switching to come up with outlandish stories to make the whole process funnier. 

They stop often, to make sure they don't push on Jon's foot too much. The smaller man often leans on Tormund to get a bit of rest, blushing silently. The redhead catches the colour on Jon's cheeks but does not comment, only smiles, content.

They arrive in town hours later and there, the people chat with Tormund, talking about this and that, eyeing Jon with both curiosity and amusement.

Their first stop is the small shop selling products from the area, from homemade food to tapestry and a whole section of stone and woodwork. Tormund goes right to the owner, Karsi, saluting her loudly.

"Karsi! How's business?  
-Tormund! How's hermit life- oh, hello?" She smiles at Jon, then looks back to Tormund, curious.

The redhead clears his voice, as to make it official, but in a joking manner. "Jon, this is Karsi, businesswoman extraordinaire." That makes her laugh and shake her head. "Karsi, this is Jon, he fell down the road from ol' Kraster's shop."

Jon waves and Karsi looks shocked, walking around the counter to look at him closer.

"Are you alright? That's a high fall!”

”Just bruised, I'm alright.”

“Take it easy, alright? I hope Tormund wasn't too scary at first. He looks menacing but he's mostly just a tall harmless teddy bear, right?"

Tormund complains with a smile, taking the wooden figures out off his bag. She loves embarrassing him but it's never in a mean way. He catches Jon's soft gaze and that sends a wave of warmth through his whole being.

Karsi doesn't miss that either as she gathers the small sculptures, eyeing the two without a word. She doesn't need a word anyways, they probably look like two careless lovebirds.

Tormund quickly explains that he's leaving with Jon for a while, not detailing anything and only seeing the confusion pile on Karsi's face. He'll tell her someday, around a nice beer, maybe, hopefully, with Jon.

The second stop is the local bar where they quickly change clothes in a backroom to get more comfortable. Here too, people look at Jon with curiosity. It's not every day that Tormund walks around accompanied.

The tall man gathers his warm clothes and walks to the dark corner of the bar, throwing all on a free chair there, in front of a lone man who doesn't move an inch.

"Sandor, still reading the same three books ?" 

The man never really changes his habits, in the morning he reads in that specific corner and in the afternoon he cuts wood, a simple man.

"Who's that ?" Sandor asks, pointing to Jon, not caring to look up his book.

"A man," Tormund answers, not really about to explain much. "I'm leaving for some days, I need someone to keep the fort."

Sandor sighs but also opens his hand, expecting. Tormund smiles and drops his keys. He knows that his old friend will go to the cabin, take long walks in the snow and just sing off tune to songs they both enjoyed years ago. That's how he takes vacations these days.

"When will you be back ?" The gruff man asks as he turns the keys in his palm.

”I don't know yet. But give me your number, I'll call you when I'll be on the road back."

Sandor frowns but does so, ripping a piece of his book to write his number on it with a paper pen. He gives it to Tormund but also holds on the end of it, wanting to say something more.

"If you…Stop there, tell them hello for me, okay?”

”Sure thing, buddy."

The exchange is a bit strange to unfamiliar eyes, so when they get out of the bar just after, Tormund feels obligated to tell more about the guy. Sandor is an old friend of his, pessimistic and sometimes rude, but also one he shares trauma with and could always count on.

Jon didn't see the side of the man's face, hiding in the shadows and not moving a lot, but Tormund only says that he has a huge burn mark there from the tragic night. But more than that, Sandor was like a godfather to his oldest girl.

"You can say that this town is where bikers like us go to die." He laughs because it's true.

It's a small town and Tormund knows half of the population just because of his past as a biker. Karsi was one and sometimes she leaves to meet back with the ones still living on the roads. Sandor was one also, his bike is rusting somewhere near his place. 

And then there's Mance.

They both walk to his office, not bothering to knock as the door is open and the man seems like he's taking a nap at his desk, cursing when Tormund slaps the wood of the imposing furniture. The older man gives a weird look to Jon but says nothing about the whole thing. No, he listens to Tormund explanations of whatever his plans are and only then rambles about how changing scenery will be good for him.

He might be right, he often is.

But he also walks with them to their last stop: the garage where Jon's car sadly waits. While Jon checks his belongings, Tormund tries to pay the worker and thanks him for his job, but Mance discourages him, saying that in a way, this is the town's responsibility.

It isn't one of Mance's weird businesses, Tormund knows everything will be there. He trusts him and the people he works with to be respectable, if only for Tormund's sake.

"Alright, I think we're done here," he says to Jon, surprising him as he was head deep in the trunk of his car, bumping into it. "Wow there, careful, you'll end up bleeding again !"

"I'm okay…" Jon rubs his head and stretches, looking around and breathing slowly. "So that's it? We take the road now ?"

"We take the road now. Are you ready ?"

Jon nods, declining Tormund's offer to drive for the moment being, driving them to the closest store to get some water for the travel to test his foot. 

It always feels weird to leave town these days, weirder to be next to a man he met days ago to meet his family. He has done weirder things in his life for sure, but it still is on his top five of ‘What are you doing, Giantsbane ?’

"May I request one small stop in our journey?" Tormund asks when they go back in the car. He taps his fingers on his legs, a bit nervously, not looking at Jon when asking, which makes it odd for him, he knows.

"Of course, tell me," Jon's voice is soft and low, ready to tap the location on his phone's GPS right at the second.

Tormund gives him a vague address, just a road, thanking him without adding details. Jon saves it and starts driving away, only telling the redhead to choose a radio station of his choice.

After 20 minutes of not finding a good radio station and ending on playing a random CD from Jon's glove compartment,Tormund decides to talk again.

"You're not asking where I want to go?

“I guessed you'd tell or that I'll see once arrived."

Tormund hums, fidgeting with the CD's case. He has to tell him, that's only fair to do it now, after all, it's his car and maybe they're doing a detour for his sake.

"I just… I carved some figures for my girls," he stops himself from saying more, afraid that he's going to let his emotions pour out too much. He's too tired to keep it under control.

Jon glances at him, surprising Tormund by placing a hand on his knee, gently patting there for a second, hesitating to keep it longer. His support is deeply appreciated.

Miles go by, and before he knows it, Tormund relaxes in the passenger seat, slowly rocked by the car, feeling sleep overtaking him as Jon hums to the tune playing in the background.


	12. Jon the unlucky part 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Tormund arrives in a small town where Tormund's wife and daughters are resting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 4 months since the last update, I'm really sorry... But here we go, let's hope it'll keep this way !
> 
> This chapter is obviously a sad one,  
> WARNING : Deaths (you know that)

Jon taps his fingers on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the song playing, careful not to make too much noise. He looks at the landscape, the snowy mountains disappearing in the rearview mirror and the dark clouds slowly covering the horizon in front of them. 

A storm is coming, fitting for what's to come.

Conflicted emotions are trying to cloud his mind but he refuses to let them win, doing his best to focus on what is clear at the moment : the music playing, a catchy 90s song, one that once made him dance like a madman with his siblings and their surroundings of a slowly changing landscape and Tormund napping beside him.

Their first stop is minutes away, probably in the close area of the small town appearing down the road.

Funny how Jon associates Tormund with small things. A small cabin with small rooms, a small town on the side of a mountain, a small village in the middle of nowhere, small wooden figures… Yet, Tormund is a tall man, has huge hair and a bushy beard, huge blue eyes, big hands, wide shoulders and most of all : a giant heart.

Even in the family pictures from Tormund's bedroom of his wife and childrens were so tiny. Hell, Jon himself feels like he could just be picked up and put safely in one of Tormund's pockets.

He smiles at the thought, glad of what is now happening to him. No matter how their story will end, he'll still be thankful for it.

-

Soon enough, Jon parks the car along a wall of white stones, old and slowly dusting away.

On the other side of the narrow street there is a cemetary looking just as old as the wall, or the whole town to be exact.

That place seems out of time, nobody to be seen, quiet, lost.

Jon looks at the graves from behind a small stone wall, wondering which ones are Tormund's family, his throat tightens thinking about the pain they're holding and at thinking about the graves of his own.

He never visited the graves of his father and little brother, at the end of the family's property. Well, it's not like he was welcome there anyways.

Are the graves covered in vines and other plants ? Are they pristines ? He cannot tell which one his mother went with, is she accepting of their passing or is she holding onto the graves like dear life ?

He drowns into his own thoughts, jumping when Tormund shifts awake.

"Hey," the redhead whispers, offering a tiny smile.

"Hey," Jon says back, crossing his arms on the steering wheel and resting his head onto them. "We arrived."

Tormund sighs, running a hand on his face before stretching as much as possible in the small space the car offers.

"I'll stay in the car, if you want to be alone," Jon offers, unsure what he should do.

Tormund only nods, opening the door to get out, holding his bag for dear life, stepping out and closing the door without adding a word. He is probably taken by emotions and needs to talk with his girls without an outsider standing around.

Jon can observe as the tall man walks down the street to enter the cemetery, at first looking tiny and miserable. But then he goes up its alley, straightening his back, like he's here to show up. 

All a façade.

The way Tormund holds the bag of wooden figures is telling. His knuckles are white. He might be more angry than sad but it slowly fades away as he stops in front of a tall headstone.

Jon cannot tell what's engraved on it, can only see a wooden box fixed next to it as Tormund opens the lid and puts the small figures in it. He talks to them, his lips busy telling words Jon cannot decipher from the distance.

It's an odd thing to see.

It brings him back to his father's and little brother's funerals.

No rain, no movies cliché funerals. The sun was bright, birds were singing loudly, a wedding was even given not far from the cemetery and happy klaxons were going wild.

It felt surreal.

Jon shakes his head, not wanting to think about what happened after the funerals. He'll have to deal with that soon enough, he needs to keep his mind sane until then.

He spots Tormund again and sees that the man is looking back at him, making small gestures inviting him by his sides.

Jon obliges, slowly leaving his car, walking down the narrow street, hearing birds and the rolling of a distant thunder. He doesn't know why he's feeling so nervous, almost nauseous, as he enters the cemetery.

Most of the graves look old, most of them are, but some stand out. The ones Tormund is standing in front of are from the last category. A picture of the young girls and their mother is welcoming him, soft smiles, peaceful.

Jon feels sick.

He only stays for Tormund, hates being here with him as his family is underground. It shouldn't be this way.

'You should be the one down here, not Rickon', he remembers hearing from his own mother's mouth. She was devastated by the loss of her husband and last child, he understands that, but Jon also lost a father and a brother that day, it was unfair.

He feels sick.

"I'm- I'm sorry." Jon brushes past Tormund, walking out of the place fast, not even going back to his car, just going for a walk in the silent town.

He walks for a while, not even admiring the old houses, buried too deep in his memories. Eventually he finds his way back to the car and Tormund is waiting for him there, not judging, only a bit curious but not enough to voice any questions.

"Uh- I was-" Jon points to a random area around him because, frankly, he walked around and inside the whole town. "I'm sorry, I just…" 

He taps his fingers on the hood of the car, the two looking at each other with the engine in between them, awkward again.

"You don't have to tell if you don't want to," Tormund says with a gentle voice, patient.

"No, I… I haven't stepped in a cemetery since- the accident."

The look in Tormund's eyes shows that he understands, nodding and offering a smile. Still, Jon feels bad as he took Tormund's mourning time and made it about him.

"I'm really sorry. I hope you had the time you needed, we can stay longer if you want."

"I had plenty of time, thank you for bringing me here. I don't come often."

Silence, tension running out.

Jon finally smiles back, not quite shining as he is still a bit taken aback by his memories, but that's a start in the right direction, he thinks.

As he's about to add more words, the rain starts falling and quickly gains strength. Jon opens the car and both hurry inside, observing as the quiet area suddenly gets washed by a thick curtain of water, flashes intensifying.

"Just in time," Tormund notices, brushing the droplets of his hair. "I think it's time to go." A big grin, like he's enjoying the weather or the opportunity it gave them to get out their painful talk.

"Yeah, I didn't expect the weather to go this bad so quickly." 

Jon maneuvers the car out of the street, looking back one last time at the small cemetery, silently wishing the girls a nice rest as he drives away.

"I hope they didn't find me too rude," he says, apologetic.

Tormund laughs loudly at that, surprising Jon and almost making him swerve on the road.

"Don't you worry, their damn uncle was Sandor, you can't go more rude than him and they loved the guy ! Also," he becomes more serious, "if they are watching over us, they know you aren't rude. Quite the opposite, really."

Jon smiles at that, for once in the day thinking about how his father would have loved Tormund because of his humor and honesty and how Rickon would have harassed the poor guy asking if he was a giant of some sort.

Yes, they'd love him.

"Well… Now that I saw your family… Are you ready to see mine ?" Jon asks, trying his best to sound mysterious and fun.

Tormund laughs again, shrugging and turning the volume of the music up to have the happy tune playing louder in the car, making the door shake a bit.

"I'll see if my heart can take your energetic siblings."

Yes, his wonderful siblings with all of their shenanigans. Tormund will probably be fine with them. But how it will go with his mother will be another story altogether.


End file.
